A Tale of Two Worlds
by Brasc
Summary: A crossover of Skies of Arcadia and Steambot Chronicles/Bumpy Trot. When a rift opens that connects two different worlds, the fates of both will be irrevocably changed. Chapter 11 added! Read and Review Please!
1. Chapter 1: When Worlds Collide

Disclaimer: Skies of Arcadia is the property of Sega and Overworks. Steambot Chronicles is the property of irem and Atlus.

The beginning of this story is the same chronologically as the beginnings of both Skies of Arcadia and Steambot Chronicles.

--

The captain of the Valuan Patrol Ship yawned in the high seat at the rear of the bridge. The patrols in Mid Ocean between Sailor's Island and the Grand Fortress were necessary to check entry passports, but extremely uneventful in between the occasional merchants. He thought wistfully of whatever errand the flagship of the 1st Fleet was on far to the south under the Silver Moon. _The Admirals always get the choice assignments,_ he thought without rancor. It was only natural, he supposed, especially with such a highborn admiral as Alfonso. _It was probably given to him by Lord Galcian, or even Empress Teodora herself!_

He roused himself from his thoughts long enough to glance on the helmsmen, who seemed to be doing okay. Satisfied, the captain began mulling over Alfonso's activities again. _Maybe he's going to secure that little island as an outpost, the one with the windmill--_

**CRACK!**

The captain yelped and threw an armored hand up to cover his eyes from the flash of light that streamed in through the bridge's windows. _What happened?! Are we under attack?! In Mid Ocean of all places? Damned Nasreans must have launched a sneak attack!_ The captain rose from the high seat, opening his mouth to shout commands. Then his eyes fell on what was lying just forward of the ship and he felt his jaw sag the rest of the way open in shock.

Where before he could see the distant view of the lighthouse on Sailor's Island, there was... something in the way. It looked a bit like the vortex in deep sky under the Silver Moon, except that it was vertical and just hanging in midsky. It glowed with its own inner light, highlighting the the spiralled arms of the vortex and they spun and drew inexorably into the center...

The Valuan captain shook his head abruptly, snapping himself out of the near hypnotic state he'd been in. The helmsmen had been shouting at him, sounding more frantic by the second. "Orders, sir!" While he'd stood frozen, the ship had been continuing on its course - which led straight into the vortex!

"Full stop!" he shouted, and grabbed ahold of the arms of his seat as the Patrol Ship jerked forward with the sudden braking. "Status report!"

"No perceptible damage to the ship, sir," one of the helmsmen replied, checking the various gauges on his console. "The hull is intact, and the engines - Sir! We're still moving forward!"

"What?! I ordered full stop!" The captain jumped up from his seat and rushed to the railing to see the vortex growing closer through the bridge's windows.

"We did, sir! That... thing out there is pulling us towards it!"

The captain felt himself go cold and clamped a desperate hand on the railing in front of him, as if he could hold the entire ship back by himself. "Full reverse! Get us away from that vortex!"

The deck rumbled beneath his feet as the engine's power output went flat out, the propellers of the small patrol ship churning at the sky to fight the pull of the vortex. That slowed their forward momentum but, from the way the vortex continued to grow through the bridge's window, it couldn't stop it. "More power!"

"We're giving it all we've got, captain! We're getting pulled in!"

The light throughout the bridge of the Patrol Ship took on a harsh tinge, as if the entire ship were under the glare of a spotlight but more so. As the captain watched, the differences between the light and dark on everything around him grew until everything appeared to be black and white. Then everything seemed to smudge together as an all-encompassing whooshing sound reverberated throughout the ship.

The captain blinked as his surroundings suddenly came back into focus. The colors of everything were back to the way they were, and below he could hear the engine groaning in protest as the Patrol Ship was thrown abruptly forward. "All stop!"

"Aye sir, all stop!"

The engine went quieter as the propellers stopped spinning, and the captain blinked as he looked through the bridge window to see blue sky. _Wait, but we were just in Valua, weren't we? The sun never shines in Valua._

"Navigator, plot our current position. Are we near Sailor's Island?"

The captain walked down the steps to the small table that held the map of the lands of the Yellow, Red and Silver Moons, with the sky rifts marking its boundaries. The navigator grabbed the sextant from beside it and consulted the map briefly before stepping up to the bridge window and bringing the instrument to his eye.

A moment later he brought the sextant back down and stared down. "Captain, I think you should see this..."

"What is it?" the captain asked irritably. He may have been bored of checking entry passports, but this entire situation had him completely out of his depth. A short walk to the window and he started to rebuke the navigator, then his eyes were drawn to the ground below.

_Ground below?! We were just in Mid Ocean!_ The Patrol Ship was now hovering over what appeared to be a large lake, and surrounding it were mountains with reflections on the water's glassy surface. He could see distantly see signs of habitation on the northern and southern edges of the lake, and beyond that...

"All I can see is land, sir," the navigator said. "Where are the edges of this island?"

"I don't think this _is_ an island," the captain muttered, more informally than was usually the norm in the Imperial Armada. "A land mass this large has to be some sort of continent, but..."

He trailed off, but the navigator nodded in agreement. The only continents in the known world were those of Valua and Nasr, and the continent below was neither the bare rock of Valua nor the heat-blasted deserts of Nasr. The mountains and land surrounding the lake were _green_. _Have we found the lands of the Green Moon, perhaps?_

The captain suddenly noticed that the lake below was drawing closer by the minute. "Helmsmen, why are we dropping skyward?"

"I... I'm not sure, sir. The engines are functioning normally, but we're dropping anyway."

The captain frowned. There was no vortex down below to be pulling them skyward, so why weren't they staying afloat? "Compensate for the drop and keep us up," he ordered, and the engine churned back into motion. Their slow descent suddenly stopped and the captain heard an almost inaudible sigh of relief run through the bridge. The captain smiled in agreement. It was about time something went right.

One of the guards standing next to the speaking tube straightened from it as the captain turned back to face the bridge. The guard saluted and said, "Captain, the lookout reports that the vortex is moonside to our stern."

The frowned and nodded. It made sense if they had been dropping that it would be above them now. _What kind of vortex is that?_ As far as he knew, vortexes only appeared in high wind areas and, to a lesser extent, in water. But as far as he knew, vortexes weren't supposed to send ships to completely different areas. And if they were in a completely different area with no immediate way back to Valua...

_Then that vortex is our only way back,_ he thought grimly. "Helmsmen, bring us about and bring us moonside until we're even with that vortex."

The helmsmen looked at him, startled. "Sir?" one of them squeaked.

"We're... we're going to try and pass back through the vortex," he said, then jutted his jaw outward firmly to bely his earlier stutter. "It's the only way we know of back to Valua. Are you questioning my orders?"

"N-no sir. Right away, sir!" The helmsman who had spoken before hurriedly went about his task, and the Patrol Ship rose steadily as it turned a 180 to face the vortex again. As it did the captain mounted the steps back to the high seat and took his place on it. Soon the bow of the ship was pointing back towards the vortex, and the captain took a deep breath. _If we make it back to Valua, I'll never complain about checking entry passports again._

"Take us in," he said, and clenched a hand on one of his armrests. The Valuan Patrol Ship moved forward, and picked up speed as it neared the vortex and its pull added to their momentum. The captain slitted his eyes against the strange lighting effect that occurred before, and then--

He blinked as the ship shot forward, then abruptly slowed to its normal speed. The captain looked out the bridge windows and smiled in relief. The sky was one again an inky black, and he could see the familiar spotlights of the Grand Fortress in the distance. They were back! _Although..._

"Query to the lookout: is that vortex still there?"

The guard lowered his face to the speaking tube and blew in it to gain the lookout's attention, then relayed the question. After a moment he rose and replied, "Aye, sir. The vortex is still there."

The captain nodded slowly, then stood from his seat. "Vice Captain, you have the bridge. I'll be in my cabin." He strode off of the bridge as the Vice Captain and the guards at the doorway saluted, then continued down the hallway.

_Lord Galcian will want to know about this_, he thought. _If that vortex is some sort of shortcut to the land of the Green Moon, then that will surely give Valua an edge over Nasr!_

_And if that wasn't the land of the Green Moon..._ A small, fierce smile stretched across the Valuan captain's face. _Then it will still profit Valua one way or another._

--

Willy walked alongside the Flap Flyer as his big brother Otto brought it to the top of the hill. "I don't know about this, bro," Willy said dubiously. "The Flyer's legs weren't looking too sturdy after the last attempt..."

"This time it'll work!" Otto said confidently - of course, that's how he'd sounded every try since the beginning. "Here I go!"

The specialized wing frames the two of them had built for the trotmobile stretched out to either side of the Flap Flyer. Otto pushed the control sticks for the Flap Flyer forward and it began running forward, its legs making some alarming grinding noises.

Willy, alarmed, began to run after the Flyer, but then Otto started flapping the wings and propelled the trotmobile into the air. For one glorious moment it hung in the sky and Otto let out a whoop - then it began falling like it had every other time before and Otto's whoop rapidly transformed into a yelp.

Willy winced as the Flap Flyer landed and, as he'd feared, the legs buckled. The trotmobile fell forward until the forward prow of the torso dug into the dirt, then skidded forward cutting a furrow into the ground. _Well, if the farm grew wheat instead of raising livestock, Mom would probably be glad we're at least helping with the plowing,_ he thought ruefully.

Willy cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Brother, are you alright?" Even as he called, he saw Otto pull himself out of the trotmobile and, apparently okay, started stomping and kicking dirt at the wrecked Flap Flyer.

Glad his brother was alright Willy sighed and turned back towards their garage, bringing a hand up and holding the bridge of his nose just below his glasses. "Well, back to the old drawing board," he said to himself, then looked back up towards the sky that both drew and taunted him and his brother. "Maybe flying trotmobiles really are just a--"

Willy blinked behind his glasses as he saw a shape in the sky over Lake Luminoso. "What's that? A bird?" But as he watched, it was moving straight up. "Don't know of any bird that can do that," he commented aloud. Curious, he ran for the garage and grabbed the telescope off the workbench. But by the time he got back outside and brought it to his eye, the whatever-it-was was already gone.

Behind him, Otto trudged back up the hill and blinked behind his goggles as he saw his little brother aiming a telescope out over the lake. "What's up?" he asked.

"Thought I saw something out there. Nothing out there now except some crazy looking cloud," Willy replied, then shrugged as he closed the telescope.

Otto slapped Willy on the back. "Come on! Let's get the Flyer back up to the garage and see if we can move the wing frames to the spare trotmobile." He hurried on into the garage.

Willy glanced back at the weird cloud, then shook his head and followed Otto.


	2. Chapter 2: The Conquest

Galcian, Sworn Protector of Valua and Supreme Commander of the Imperial Armada, stood next to the window of the bridge of his flagship, the Serpent. His face was unreadable as he gazed out at the vortex with his cold blue eyes, his black and gold cloak drawn around himself. The stare never wavered as a smaller form approached him from behind. He merely... waited.

"Lord Galcian," the smaller figure began. "The crew of the Patrol Ship has corroborated the captain's report. They insist there is a new land beyond the vortex."

"Interesting..." Galcian remained unmoving, but his mind was busy contemplating this unexpected discovery. "The captain is of the opinion that it is the land of the Green Moon." A small smile appeared on the commander's face, though his eyes remained hooded. "We already have a route to Ixa'taka through North Ocean. From the report of the landscape it is unlikely that the land they saw and Ixa'taka are one and the same."

Galcian turned halfway to look at the young man standing behind him. His head stood only to Galcian's shoulders but he maintained a reputation of strength that rivaled his commander's. He had an appearance different from the usual run of Valuan, with pale skin, green eyes and silver hair worn medium-long. That was mostly due to the fact that he hadn't been born in Valua - which was what also made him a most valuable asset.

"Tell me, Ramirez, does this land sound like any of the other continents beneath the Six Moons?"

Ramirez, formerly of the Silver Civilization and now Vice Captain to Lord Galcian, narrowed his eyes as he considered the question. After a few moments, he shook his head slowly. "The land the captain describes sounds nothing like Yafutoma or the Land of Ice. There would be far more settlement on such a lake in Yafutoma, while the Land of Ice..." Ramirez trailed off but Galcian caught the flow of the observation. _Such a lake in the Land of Ice would _be_ ice, more or less._

"So this land may not be in Arcadia at all..." Galcian turned to look out the window at the vortex again, his expression once more neutral. "This does very little to help our search for the Moon Crystals. However... This too could be an opportunity."

He turned halfway to face Ramirez again and eyed him appraisingly. His Vice Captain stood stoic under his lord's eye, his gaze level and back straight. Galcian nodded almost imperceptibly as he seemed to come to a decision.

"Alfonso recently returned aboard his life raft babbling about treachery and Air Pirates. From what I've gathered he found the Silvite girl and then lost her." Galcian's small smirk said everything about his estimation of the 1st Admiral of the Armada. "There is an island in that region that I've long suspected to be a pirate haven, but until now they've been merely a nuisance. Now I'm going to personally lead a full battle squadron to Windmill Island and end that nuisance once and for all. No band of pirates is going to stand in the way of the Valuan Empire."

Ramirez bowed his head. "As you command, Your Excellency."

Galcian smiled again. "I have a different task for you, Ramirez." The smile broadened as Ramirez raised his head with widened eyes, looking quite humanly surprised - the first time he'd had any expression on his face in a long time. "I am going to form a small force to pass through the vortex, and you're going to command it."

Ramirez stared at his commander and mentor a moment more, then bowed his head again. "As you wish, Lord Galcian."

Still smiling, Galcian turned to face the window once more. "I believe you are ready for command, Ramirez. In fact, I plan to request your promotion to a full admiral at my next audience with the Empress. Your service aboard the Serpent has been exemplary."

The smile abruptly disappeared from Galcian's face. "I'm giving you no small task, Ramirez. I want you to establish a preliminary outpost there and begin gathering information on the new land. Military, resources, technology... Prove to me that this place is worthy of Valua's attention. If it is, and it strengthens the Armada, it will make obtaining the Moon Crystals all the easier. Then Arcadia... and perhaps more... will be ours.

"Do you understand me? You are the gather information, not alert a possibly powerful new enemy to Valua's existence. The Armada already has its hands full holding down Ixa'taka and facing down Nasr. We do not need a major war in addition to those."

Ramirez was silent for a while as he let those words soak in. _He is asking me to use subtlety. These seem more like Belleza's methods..._

He started to say so but stopped himself before he could open his mouth. _This must be another of Lord Galcian's tests. Power is the end, but the means are many._ His eyes gleamed. _I will prove my lord's estimation of my abilities is not misplaced._

--

The captain of the Valuan Patrol Ship squinted against the lighting effect of the vortex, then breathed a sigh of relief as the blue sky and lake of the new land appeared through the bridge's windows. He at least knew what to expect this time, which went a long way towards lessening its disorienting effect.

Off to the side the captain saw the flagship of the expeditionary force draw ahead of them, a regular Valuan Cruiser from which Acting Admiral Ramirez was commanding. The captain frowned. _Having a lowborn Vice Captain put in overall command... Although, when it's _Lord Galcian's_ Vice Captain, I suppose allowances can be made._

The captain hadn't particularly wanted to pass through the vortex again but Galcian's orders could not be refused. He suspected they were along merely because they were the first to discover it. _He probably sent us along so that nobody in the crew will be able to go reporting it to the nearest Sailor's Guild._

The Vice Captain turned away from the window and saluted. "Orders from Admiral Ramirez's flagship, sir. We are to proceed to the northern shore of the lake and begin bombarding the settlement with cannon fire."

"Confirm receipt of the orders. Helmsmen, turn to port and proceed to the northern settlement. Gunners, prepare..."

His orders rang out through the Patrol Ship as it followed the larger Cruiser north towards the small village. Three small figures on the ground below stared up at the oncoming vessels, two near a small wooden dock leading to the lake and another standing next to the larger of the two ramshackle wood buildings that made up the village. They scattered as soon as the two Valuan ships presented their broadsides and let loose with a volley of cannon fire. They weren't particularly well aimed, just meant to instill terror in the target rather than destruction. Even so, one shell landed perilously close to the dock whole another struck a section of the larger building and sent a pillar of smoke mounting into the air.

The captain had his ship send a few more shots into the field in front of the two buildings and into the mountains above the village as the Cruiser descended to a large field. It was fenced off from the settlement and made up half of the open space amidst the mountains that the village rested in. As soon as the Cruiser touched down, green armored Valuan soldiers wielding swords and firearms swarmed out and into the village. From what the captain could see, there was no active resistance to the invasion.

"Cease fire," he ordered and watched as the soldiers of the Imperial Armada completed the conquest of the settlement. _That was simple enough. If this is the best this land can come up with then the Empire will live under more than just the Yellow Moon._

"Compliments from the Admiral, and we're to land in the water offshore from the dock and begin offloading the rest of the expeditionary force," the Vice Captain relayed from the signal flags run up the mast of the Cruiser.

The captain grimaced and transformed those orders into action. He knew the Patrol Ship would be able to float in water, but it still made him uneasy. _Strange. I have no problem sailing with the threat of an endless plunge into Deep Sky, but water I have a problem with._

The Patrol Ship descended and settled into the water just outside the opening of a fence that encompassed an area of water surrounding the settlements shore with the lake. The vessel bobbed unpleasantly under him, and some of the bridge crew started to look decidedly green at the motion. Pushing his queasiness aside he began issuing orders and watched from a bridge window as the Patrol Ship's boats began ferrying more soldiers to the settlement. The two boats tied up at the dock were also pressed into service, worn-looking things with racks to hang fish on that were powered by human driven oars and couldn't fly at all.

"Is this place really worth it, sir?" the Vice Captain asked. He had been standing nearby and was watching the two native boats disdainfully.

"Lord Admiral Galcian has ordered that we establish an outpost in this new land," the captain replied stolidly. _Though I can sympathize with the sentiment. Moons above, but this place is a hole!_

"Sir!" The captain turned as one of the guards at the speaking tube saluted. "The lookout reports eight objects in the water heading towards us."

The captain frowned and asked, "Are they boats?"

"No, sir. They're too small to be boats and they're mostly underwater so the lookout can't get a clear view of them. They're moving fast."

The captain's frown deepened. _What in the name of the Moons could those be? _He hurried across the bridge to a window facing out over the lake and saw the eight objects throwing white trails of water behind them. _Hmm, strange. They almost look like..._

Abruptly, the captain's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to shout an order to elevate the Patrol Ship out of the water.

--

Ramirez walked through the opening of the wooden fence that separated the field in which the Valuan Cruiser had landed from the village. A rutted dirt path led down to an open field which now held smoking craters from the shells of the bombardment. Nestled against the sharply rising mountains were a small building constructed of wooden planks whose front was roughly patched up with boards, while off to the left was a large building with windows now broken, a large crooked metal chimney, and a section protruding from the main structure that had been facing the fence and was now smashed and burning.

There was a small open air shed that had just escaped the destruction. As he approached it, he saw that several barrels and crates gathered in and around it and a light shining from a pole hung between the two forward supports holding up the roof. Strangely, there was a sign hanging from a pole above the shed that looked like some sort of flag, but it was wood and had a logo of a crossed wrench and screwdriver on a white background with the word 'Garage' in red just below it.

_Strange sort of flag for a settlement, and a stranger place to hang it. Why isn't above the largest building?_

Ramirez scanned him immediate surroundings and took in the ramshackle looking buildings, the piles of dirt next to the fence and the lack of any sort of pavement on the ground. The inhabitants of the settlement were gathered in the middle of the clearing in front of the buildings, surrounded by Valuan soldiers. The clothes they wore were plain even for commonfolk - even the outfits of those in the Lower City of Valua wore brighter colors.

"Bring me the leader of this place," Ramirez ordered, and stood silent with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword as soldiers plunged into the group of villagers, pushing and shouting. Before long they dragged a tall man up to him whose white beard showed his old age, and wore sunglasses, a fisherman's hat, a collarless brown shirt with rolled up sleeves with a red vest over it, green pants and a sturdy looking pair of brown leather boots that came up only to his ankles instead of the typical Arcadian knee or thigh length boots.

The old man looked surprised to see the youth of the man he was hauled in front of, then his eyes met Ramirez's and he quickly averted his gaze, shivering. "Uh, hello stranger," the old man began, then stopped as one of the soldiers elbowed him roughly and growled. The old man quickly recovered from the blow and began again. "Er, sir, my lord... why have you attacked us? Meme Village is but a peaceful fishing hamlet. It has been some 10 years since we last had a visitor." His eyes constantly flicked past Ramirez towards the Valuan Cruiser on the other side of the fence, wide with amazement. "Who knew the outside world had become so advanced!"

"Who I am is not your concern," Ramirez replied coldly. "Your only concern is that I am now the one in control of Meme Village. Who are you and what is your title?"

"I'm the Mayor of this village, Mayor Marlow. Please, sir, we don't mean you any harm--"

The sound of a large explosion suddenly ripped through the air, and Mayor Marlow and the soldiers standing on either side of him threw up their arms to shield themselves. Ramirez turned towards the Patrol Ship that had dropped anchor out in the water to see fire and smoke billowing from the side facing out towards the lake. Further out a shape rose from the water and he could make out the bridge of a ship and four stacks that poured smoke into the air on either side of the flat deck. What he recognized as eight torpedos suddenly launched out of the water and arced down back into it. Before he well began wondering if they had been duds, eight white trails cut through the water towards the Patrol Ship. The Valuan vessel managed a single broadside from its cannons before the second spread of torpedos hit. One of the shells impacted a smokestack of the myserious vessel, but the Patrol Ship began spewing flame and smoke and started to sink into the water. The mystery vessel began to sink as well, but in a noticeably more controlled fashion until only a thin tube with a glass lens remained above the water.

The Meme Villagers and Valuan soldiers alike stared out at the sinking wreck of the Patrol Ship in horror. Mayor Marlow's gaze was brought away from the terrible tableau as Ramirez's sword was out of its scabbard with its sharp tip resting just in front of his throat in an instantaneous silver blur. The old man swallowed as his gaze trailed back up the blade to the wrathful stare of its wielder.

"P-please, my lord," he quavered, "T-that... that _thing_ is one reason we haven't had any visitors! That lake monster showed up two months ago and is the reason we don't go fishing too far out!"

Ramirez's eyes flicked around to take in the primitive surroundings again. _I suppose he has a point. This village is too primitive to support such a vessel._ His gaze traveled back to the Mayor, and he was tempted to punch his blade through the old man's throat anyway. But, after a few tense seconds, he lowered his sword and let it rest at his side.

"Meme Village now lies under the rule of the Valuan Empire," he stated. "Any resistance from you or your people will be met with overwhelming force." A small chilly smile crossed his face as the image of the underwater ship came to mind. "Get used to serving us, Mayor Marlow. We're going to be here for a long time."


	3. Chapter 3: First Meeting

Ramirez sat at a wood table in the northeastern quadrant of the larger of the two buildings in Meme Village. It had housed four of the five families that resided in the village until he had requisitioned it and the smaller building as barracks for the Valuan expeditionary force - the native Meme Villagers were now sleeping in makeshift tents of worn sailcloth in the clearing in front of the two buildings. The quadrant he himself inhabited had been formerly occupied by Mayor Marlow and his wife.

_Not that it's much of an improvement over the other three,_ ran through his mind as he glanced at his surroundings in mild distaste. There was a large cast iron stove in the center of building, and a lit oil lamp hung from a wooden rafter over the table. Neither growing up in the Great Silver Shrine nor his later life in Valua had prepared him for such... rustic surroundings.

Ramirez shoved the small stack of books and papers that had been seized in the village aside and stood from his chair, one hand automatically holding his sword hilt so the scabbard wouldn't catch on anything. All the information was hopelessly out of date, backing the Mayor's claims that Meme Village had been isolated from the outside world for a decade. The most he'd learned was that the large lake was named Lake Luminoso and the surrounding mountains were the Eagle Mountains, from which the streams that fed the lake originated. Useful in its own way, but hardly the sort of thing Lord Galcian was looking for.

Two soldiers saluted as he pushed open the front door of the building and stalked down the worn path. Green armored soldiers were bustling everywhere, moving metal crates of moonstones, ammunition and weaponry into Valuan-style metal storage buildings that were still being constructed alongside the two original wood buildings. On the lakeshore more soldiers were setting up emplacements for cannons to defend Meme Village from invasion, while on the other side of the fence the Meme Villagers were helping to build a proper port in the field where the Cruiser had first landed. More Valuan ships had arrived through the vortex the past couple of days, bringing machinery and construction materials to help build the Empire's outpost in this world.

Seeing all the progress only served to make Ramirez more discontent. All these resources, which could have been put towards more battleships for the Armada, needed some sort of return to make them worthwhile. He needed more than Meme Village could offer, but he could hardly go sailing blindly into the outside world without knowing what might be waiting. Lord Galcian's instructions constrained him from doing too much to alert the natives to Valua's presence. He had even been forced to make the ships bringing in the supplies fly in and out of the vortex during the local night time when nobody on the opposite shore would be able to see them. _Which is why I shall have to take a page from Belleza's book after all,_ he thought, expression grim.

He approached the dock where one of the Cruiser's lifeboats awaited, along with that same ship's captain - most of the crew of the Patrol Ship had perished when the underwater ship had attacked, its own captain among them. The Cruiser Captain saluted as he walked up.

"Captain, you are in charge of this outpost while I'm away. Continue its construction and make sure the villagers remain in line." His eyes momentarily went hooded. "You know what to do if they resist in any way."

The Cruiser Captain saluted again and replied, "Yes sir!" Ramirez swept past him without another word and stepped into the lifeboat. Two heavy bags of gold hanging from his belt jingled as he did. From what the Meme Villagers said gold was valuable here as well, and there was no reason for him to go exploring as a pauper.

Within moments he was cruising along just above the surface of the lake, seated at the rear of the boat with one hand on the tiller with the wind blowing his hair back. For a moment he smiled, remembering when he had first descended from the Great Silver Shrine to Arcadia in a Silvite ship and feeling his very first breeze. It disappeared when he remembered awakening on the Aquila and meeting Admiral Mendosa for the first time...

Suppressing the memories ruthlessly, Ramirez steered the boat through an opening in a fence similar to the one blocking off Meme Village's shore. Off to the left of the fenced off section was a dock much larger than the village's with a small building and a crane for moving cargo. He brought the boat off towards a large set of stairs leading up from the water and slowly settled it down into the water. _Simple enough,_ he thought as he stepped out onto the bottom stair, then turned to look at the lifeboat appraisingly, hand resing on his sword's hilt.

After a moment he closed his eyes. In an instant, his eyes opened and his sword was swept outward in a broad arc. On the lifeboat the engine at the rear of the small vessel fell free from where he'd sliced it and began sinking, while another piece of hull at the bottom of the boat fell free. The lifeboat quickly began sinking to the bottom of Lake Luminoso. Ramirez slowly sheathed his sword as he watched it. _No reason to let Valuan technology fall into the hands of someone who would happen upon it. Besides, with my boat scuttled behind me I'll have incentive to explore this land thoroughly._

He cocked an ear as he heard a strange... flapping sound? Ramirez frowned turned towards the sharp hill rising in front of the stairs with a wooden fence running along its side. He had just finished the turn when a voice yelled, "Whoa, look out!"

**CLANG!**

Ramirez winced at the loud metallic sound. _What was _that? He began running towards the bottom of the hill.

--

Vanilla climbed out of the cockpit of his Trotmobile, dazed. He tumbled as he tried to climb back down to the ground, then slowly rose from the ground holding a hand to his head. _Ugh... what was that? There was another Trotmobile falling down the hill, and..._

"Oh, it's still in one piece! Thank goodness."

"Hey, kid! Are you alright?"

Vanilla slowly straightened to see two young men standing in front of him, a short pudgy one with glasses and mechanic's clothes looking at him in concern and a tall lanky one with goggles, a white tanktop and mechanic's pants staring at the strange looking Trotmobile that had slammed into his. He brought his hand back down and raised his head to look at the short one. "Yeah, I'm okay..." he managed.

"Hey, look... we're sorry about that," the short one replied, making a placating gesture.

The tall one turned away from the other Trotmobile and walked over a beat later. "Hey kid, sorry about that..." The short one turned to look at the lanky one as he continued, "We've been trying to create a flying Trotmobile. Name's Otto, I'm the pilot. The mechanic's my li'l brother Willie."

"I'm Vanilla, nice to meet you," he replied, placing a hand to his chest and bowing forward briefly. He was a teenager with blonde hair and blue eyes, and was wearing an outfit consisting of a white button-down shirt with the top button undone and sleeves rolled up with a blue leather vest over it, a pair of goggles hanging around his neck, brown leather gloves, a pair of blue jeans and a well-worn pair of leather shoes.

"The pleasure's ours," Otto replied, nodding back.

Vanilla heard an odd repetitive clanking sound, and saw the brothers turn to look behind him. He turned in time to see another young man run a last few steps then stop. "What happened here?" the newcomer asked, looking at the three of them and the two Trotmobiles.

Vanilla rubbed the back of his neck, eyeing him in some confusion. He was dressed strangely, in a black and red coat emroidered with gold threads, black pants with an exaggerated flare at the hips, black boots that rose up to the middle of his thighs and had steel soles, and a sword hanging at his hip. _That's sure a fancy outfit,_ ran through his mind.

"We just an accident," Willie replied. The two brothers were also taking in the stranger's outfit and sword. Willie maintained a polite expression, but Otto was frankly staring from behind his goggles.

"Wow, that's one wild getup!" Otto exclaimed. The newcomer blinked at the comment, then looked at their clothes and then back down at his own. His face remained neutral throughout, and Willie gave his brother a hard nudge.

"I came from across the lake," he eventually said, straightening a bit self-consciously. "We don't have much contact with the outside world... What are these things, anyway?" He was looking up at the two vehicles.

"They're called Trotmobiles," Vanilla answered. "I'm Vanilla, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Ramirez," the newcomer replied, nodding slightly. Otto and Willie made their own introductions, but before long Otto's expression went distant. He sighed and started flapping his arms, not seeming to realize he was even doing it.

"If only Trotmobiles flew through the sky like birds... Don't you think that'd be great?" Willie turned to look at the two of them to see how they'd answer.

Ramirez raised his eyebrows in surprise, but Vanilla considered the question for a moment before nodding and saying, "Yeah, I'd love to fly some day."

Otto lowered his arms and grinned. "Aha! See? This kid knows where it's at!"

Willie didn't look quite as enthused as his brother. "...As you can see, the experiments could be going better. Maybe flying Trotmobiles really are just a fantasy..."

The mechanic sighed and brought a hand up to hold the bridge of his nose just below his glasses. "I wish Dr. Nutmeg would help. He's the father of Trotmobiles, y'know." He looked back up at Vanilla and Ramirez. "You're looking for him, right? Most people 'round here are..."

Willie turned towards a building sitting on top of the hill, off to the side of the area where the two brothers were making their flying Trotmobile experiments. "He's in that nutty-lookin' building over there. But, around this time--"

Otto suddenly started flapping his arms again, having dazed out again, and interrupted his little brother unknowingly. "Willie, let's try raising the speed of the wing flap."

Willie, Vanilla and Ramirez turned to look at Otto, who seemed oblivious as he stopped flapping his arms and nodded to the latter two. "You just wait, guys... One day, we'll be soarin' through the skies..." he said dreamily. "In our masterpiece; the Flap Flyer!"

Without further ado, Otto clambered back into the Flap Flyer and started walking it back up the hill. Willie shook his head and said, "See you around!" before running after his brother on foot.

Vanilla watched them go, then turned to see Ramirez watching him levelly. "So are you here to see Dr. Nutmeg, too?" he asked. "I can give you a ride if you want."

Ramirez considered the question for a moment before nodding. "Yes, thank you. I was hoping to reach the nearest city..."

"That's not a problem," Vanilla assured him. "A friend reccomended that I see Dr. Nutmeg about something, but I'm heading back to Nefroburg afterward. You could just wait outside if you want."

Ramirez nodded agreement and the two of them climbed into the cockpit of Vanilla's red and orange two-seater Trotmobile, which was named the Earl Grey II. Vanilla started walking it up the hill, moving off to the side of the rutted path that marked where the Flap Flyer had made previous attempts. As they climbed up, Otto ran by them again, the Flap Flyer's wings churning at the air but ultimately unable to keep it aloft. Willie watched Otto from atop the hill and Vanilla stopped the Earl Grey II near him for a moment.

"...Hmph, it still needs to be lighter. But, the engine's already as small as we can make it," Willie commented, then waved as Vanilla started up a winding path to the small platueau Dr. Nutmeg's house rested on.

Vanilla parked the Trotmobile at the end of the path leading up to the front door and the two of them climbed down. "I'll be back," Vanilla said, and headed inside.

Ramirez watched him go, then looked at a well-kept garden of various colored flowers next to the path. Next to the front door was an oil lamp, and next to the lamp was a window that had a large shutter propper open with two sticks to let in sunlight and fresh air. Attached to the house was a larger building with an open doorway wide enough for the Trotmobile to walk through. To either side of the doorway were some strangely crafted metal structures. He looked them over, but was unable to deduce their purpose and shrugged. _Well, this Dr. Nutmeg is supposed to be a scientist. De Loco has his eccentricities as well._

He turned to look back down where Otto brought the Flap Flyer down the hill on yet another attempt at flight, and a chilly smile came to Ramirez's face. _They're unable to fly, hm? How... interesting._

--

Vyse stood at the wheel of the Little Jack, Aika standing to his right with one fist resting on her hip and Cap'n Drachma standing to his left, looking as grouchy as ever. Vyse was smiling as the Valuan ship sailed away, having just checked the entry passport they had received from the Nasr merchant they'd escorted to the South Dannel Strait. _Heh... And beat the Black Pirate Baltor along the way._

"Looks like we made it through," Aika said. "We just passed a Valuan Security Checkpoint. That's quite an accomplishment, don't you think?"

"Yeah..." Vyse replied, smiling. "I thought getting into Valua would be a lot tougher. Now all we have to do is sneak into--"

A bright light suddenly shone through the window of the Little Jack's bridge, and Vyse quickly brought a hand up to shield his eyes. Beside him, Aika did the same. "Huh? What's that?!" she asked.

Drachma's glower got more pronounced as he looked at the small fleet of Valuan ships surrounding a point of light. "I don't know what that's all about. That wasn't there the last time I passed through Mid Ocean."

Vyse looked at the light curiously, frowning slightly. "It sure looks important, whatever it is."

Drachma brought his metal fist down with a growl, and Vyse winced and crouched away from him. "Bah! Don't be wondering about whatever that is, boy! We've got the Grand Fortress just ahead... it's the only entrance into the city of Valua. Valua is surrounded by impassable mountains... so that is the only way in or out."

"Wow... I can't believe they actually built something that big..." Vyse said.

The Little Jack sailed on towards Valua... though Vyse couldn't help throwing another curious look backward at the Valuan warships gathered around the light.


	4. Chapter 4: The Millimotive

"Wooooaaaaaah!"

"Oh no, again?! Brother, are you alright?"

Ramirez stifled a laugh as the Flap Flyer's legs buckled under the strain Otto had been putting them through under repeated hard landings. He shook his head and sighed. _It's so _difficult_ for them to get into the sky here. I almost feel sorry for them._ He wondered why that was so. Were Moon Stones more rare here? Of course, there was also the extra power a ship's engine needed to exert to remain aloft here too, for some reason...

He turned as he saw motion at the window to Dr. Nutmeg's house to see Vanilla and an old man with glasses, a white button-down shirt with rolled up sleeves and a leather apron with several pockets walk up to the window. The old man - apparently Dr. Nutmeg - also had a gray beard and was bald on top of his head, but wore a bushy fringe of gray hair below. Dr. Nutmeg looked out towards Otto and Willie, the sound of their accident having drawn the two of them to the window, and shook his head.

"They don't know when to give up," Dr. Nutmeg said in a grouchy sounding voice. "Trotmobiles can't fly. I didn't design 'em that way."

He suddenly seemed to notice Ramirez staring back at them. "Hmph... And who's this?"

"I met him on my way here," Vanilla replied. "His name is Ramirez." Ramirez nodded silently to Dr. Nutmeg.

"Hmph, okay, whatever," Dr. Nutmeg grumbled, then looked at the Earl Grey II. "Is that your Trotmobile? I can tell you've been fighting. You ran into some bandits, did you?" Ramirez's attention was roused by that comment. _Bandits? They have outlaws here too, then?_ He also looked at Vanilla in a new light. If he was able to defeat bandits with his Earl Grey II, there must be more to him than met the eye. _Perhaps he could be useful..._

Dr. Nutmeg stared at Vanilla's Trotmobile wistfully for a bit, then said, "I really hoped that Trotmobiles would be used to make people's lives easier... But, I guess using science to help mankind is only in the movies. Trotmobiles are machines... They can be good or bad, it depends on the rider." Vanilla frowned slightly as he considered Dr. Nutmeg's words. "I wish I could change that, but it just isn't possible," Dr. Nutmeg continued, then seemed to shake himself from his reverie and looked back at Vanilla.

"Anyway, back on track. Come back if you start to feel sick. You don't need a letter next time." He started a moment, then reached into one of his apron pockets and pulled out a small paper bag. "Oh, and you should take this, since you're here. It's Rosemary's medicine." He handed it to Vanilla, and continued, "Let Connie know I said hi. And, have her stop by every once in a while."

_What an old fool,_ ran through Ramirez's mind as Vanilla gave his farewell and headed for the door. _Science is useful only to build and maintain power. 'Good' and 'bad' are merely titles the weak label the strong with. _He glanced back at the Earl Grey II. _Perhaps these Trotmobiles could be useful to Lord Galcian and the Armada._

--

Some time later Vanilla and Ramirez were just passing out of the large fields of Vision Ranch where various livestock, mostly sheep, grazed and up an incline to where two yellow Trotmobiles with construction frames were grading a section of ground and laying down steel rails secured to wooden crossbeams.

Ramirez leaned forward in his seat and stared at the tracks in surprise. _Those are rail car tracks!_, he thought incredulously. _How did they come up with those?_ He glanced back at the construction Trotmobiles thoughtfully, then remembered the underwater ship that sank the Patrol Ship in Lake Luminoso. _Hmm, even if they aren't able to fly it looks like they've been able to develop their technology along different paths. I wonder what else besides underwater ships they might have that Valua doesn't?_

"That's a railroad," Vanilla commented, and Ramirez turned to look at him. "I guess you wouldn't know about them if you were cut off from the outside world."

"Yes... A railroad..." Ramirez said slowly, then turned his face away from Vanilla to hide his discomfort. Thankfully, he'd mistaken his interest in the tracks for ignorance. _I must be more careful._

Vanilla continued piloting the Earl Grey II over a rail bridge and the veered back to the grass to the side of the tracks. Off to the left was a canyon, and further ahead Ramirez saw barren looking mesas rising up above the hills.

"This is Wagtail Canyon," Vanilla commented as they passed into an area where dry dirt replaced grass on either side of the railroad. "I would've been out to see Dr. Nutmeg sooner, but I spent a few days here digging up fossils for the Nefroburg Museum." He gestured to the left arm frame of his Trotmobile, which had a large pickaxe attached to it.

Ramirez raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Trotmobiles can be used for mining too?"

"Sure!" Vanilla said, nodding. "I've also seen them used for farming and hauling cargo."

"That's... impressive," Ramirez replied, and leaned back in his seat. _These Trotmobiles are sounding more and more useful. Instead of all the different machines Valua has to build for various tasks, these Trotmobiles can be used for all of them if you install different parts for them._

He was roused from his thoughts when he heard a thump and felt the ground shake slightly under the Earl Grey II. "Hmm? What was that?"

Vanilla was frowning as he brought the Trotmobile onto a railbridge and continued on towards what Ramirez saw were city walls with towers in the distance. "I don't know," Vanilla said. "That didn't happen when I came through before--"

They had reached the middle of the bridge when they suddenly heard a distant sharp rumble. Vanilla turned the Trotmobile to look as the driver of another Trotmobile below turned away from where he'd been chipping away at a canyon wall to also look. "Something's coming this way!" the driver below exclaimed, and started hurrying towards the noise.

Vanilla suddenly walked his Trotmobile off the edge of the bridge and Ramirez clutched the side of the cockpit in alarm for a moment before he heard thrusters kick in from below. They landed relatively softly on a low rise below and turned towards the noise again, this time at a better vantage point. They could see where the digger's Trotmobile was looking around a curve on the ground below, then he yelled "What the--?!" just before he got thrown backwards into the canyon wall. It was followed an instant later by a round disc faced with two concentric circles of claws spinning in different directions; it was followed by rising and falling platforms as it walked along the canyon on insect-like legs, arranged much like a rail car.

"Hold on!" Vanilla yelled as cannons atop the platforms started launching shells towards the rise the Earl Grey II was standing on. He maneuvered his Trotmobile for all it was worth, dodging the shells as they fell in towards them. As soon as the front platform neared the rise, Vanilla gunned the thrusters and sent the Trotmobile flying upward and onto it. He immediately swung it's pickaxe at the cannon and destroyed it with a forward and back swing. He quickly swung the Earl Grey II around to the other platform and launched it to the next platform with the thrusters, where he repeated the process and destroyed another cannon with his pickaxe.

Despite himself, Ramirez was impressed. Vanilla was displaying considerable skill in working what looked to be some complicated controls, piloting the Trotmobile as if it was an extension of himself. Not only that, here he was using a much smaller machine to outmanuever and deal considerable damage to a large machine it seemed was specifically designed for combat.

Vanilla finally leaped to the rear platform and destroyed the last cannon, at which point the large rail car-like machine abruptly halted and started spewing steam all along it. He pointed the Earl Grey II's other arm, which had a tube attached to it, down towards one of the sections spewing steam and fired a small shell into it. As soon as it connected, explosions started rocking the machine from front to back, and Vanilla launched his Trotmobile back to the rise in the center.

"Phew!" Vanilla exclaimed, and grinned over at Ramirez. "That was a close one."

Ramirez looked at the twisted metal rubble of the machine, then back at Vanilla. "That was... impressive, Vanilla," he said. "How long have you been piloting Trotmobiles?"

Vanilla suddenly looked a bit sheepish. "Less than a week actually," he confessed. "But I read the user's manual."

Ramirez stared at him in astonishment, but before he could say anything a voice called out, "Heeey! Everyone, get over here!"

"That sounds like the guy that thing threw into the canyon wall," Vanilla said, looking surprised. "Sounds like he made it." He hopped the Trotmobile down to the ground and started hurrying towards where the large machine had emerged, followed by several other Trotmobiles wielding drills and hammers - digging tools.

When they all reached the area, they saw that the machine had emerged from the wall, having mined through with the forward attachment with it's digging claws. Exposed were an assortment of strange indentations and sections of what looked like bone that left Ramirez confused, but had Vanilla and the others staring wide-eyed.

"It's _huge!"_ one of the diggers exclaimed. "It... it's incredible... What a discovery!" the man who called them over said reverently. "We finally found it! This is the fossiliferous stratum we've been looking for." He smiled and nodded towards Vanilla in the pilot's seat of the Earl Grey II. "You deserve all the credit."

He suddenly looked around at the other diggers and said, "Everyone listen up... This stratum belongs to him. We need to continue our search for other stratums." He looked back at Vanilla, continued, "This excavation's in your hands. I bet you'll unearth something huge. We're all looking forward to it. Okay everyone, back to work!"

Vanilla stared at the fossiliferous stratum with a bemused expression as the diggers sent their Trotmobiles off to the other parts of Wagtail Canyon. Ramirez eyed the stratum, then asked, "This is a discovery?" Discoveries to him meant lost landmarks, strange creatures or long lost pieces of Old World technology. A wall of weird indentations and dusty bones hardly seemed worth getting excited over.

"Well, yeah," Vanilla replied, and gestured towards the stratum. "The artifacts I dug up before are pieces of history. The Museum will pay a lot of UR for rare things to exhibit."

Ramirez frowned. "UR?" he asked hesitantly.

Vanilla blinked at him, surprised. "You don't know what UR are? It's money, the currency of this country." He pulled out a copper coin and held it up in his hand. Ramirez examined it and, sure enough, he saw a 'UR' minted onto its surface with a horizontal line running through the middle of the letters.

"I see... So the Nefroburg Museum will pay a lot of UR for those things in the stratum?"

"Yeah. Except those fossils look like they're going to be a lot bigger... I should head back into the city and get a wider flatbed to carry them," Vanilla said, then turned the Earl Grey II around and started heading back up along the canyon.

--

As they neared the city gate, Vanilla turned to him and asked, "What are you planning to do when you get to Nefroburg, anyway?"

"I'm not sure," Ramirez said hesitantly as the gate opened and the Earl Grey II started walking in. "I suppose I'll look around and--"

"Hold it right there!"

Vanilla and Ramirez looked forward sharply to see three pink and purple Trotmobiles blocking the road; they seemed to be giant cannons with legs and looked much like a side turret on a typical Valuan ship. They had slanted red lights just below the cannon, obviously fashioned to look like eyes. On the upper right of the shield was a logo of a stylized red elephant on a purple background.

"The Killer Elephants control Nefroburg now," said a man standing on foot in front of the three Trotmobiles. He was a weathered looking man with a dark beard who wore a brown hat, goggles with some sort of attachment over the left eye, a red jacket with the same elephant logo on the right breast over a white shirt, fingerless gloves and brown pants. "Auto and Tromobiles are strictly prohibited for civies. We're gonna have to confiscate your ride."

As a look of alarm came to Vanilla's face, he continued, "Don't worry, we'll trick it out like ours, and... ride it." He laughed unpleasantly, then turned to the others behind him and ordered, "Take them away!"

Ramirez started to reach for his sword, then looked at the three large cannons pointing at them and thought better of it. _Well, this is a cleverly staged ambush,_ he thought sourly as he and Vanilla climbed down from the cockpit and were surrounded by armed Killer Elephant guards. They immediately started rushing them further into Nefroburg, shoving when they went too slow to suit them.


	5. Chapter 5: Liberation

Vanilla sat down hard and with an "Oof!" when he got shoved to the floor inside Nefroburg Church, while Ramirez managed to keep his footing and stumbled into the back of a pew. The two of them stared back at the four Killer Elephants that had brought them here, Vanilla still in shock at the sudden reversal of his fortunes, and Ramirez glaring.

"As long as y'listen, you won't be harmed," the red-jacketed Killer Elephant said, looking back and forth at them both; the rest behind him wore blue jackets instead. "But don't get any funny ideas. We _will_ enforce the rules." With that he led the other three back out of the church, leaving the two of them.

Ramirez looked over at Vanilla as he stood and stared after the Killer Elephants, his face starting to firm. He started slightly when a hesitant voice called, "H-hey, kid!" The two of them turned to see a man dressed mostly in brown run over to them from another part of the church. "A-are you okay?" he asked, stuttering a bit. "It's me--remember?"

"You're the museum curator," Vanilla said, nodding to him.

"Ah, so you r-remember me," the curator said, sounding relieved. "I-I've been worried about you," he continued, then sounded plaintive as he asked, "Where did you go?"

"I was at the Vision Ranch with Dr. Nutmeg," Vanilla replied, and nodded to Ramirez. "I met him on the way there. His name's Ramirez." Ramirez nodded to the curator silently.

"Oh, you weren't in town when it happened?" the curator asked as a bearded priest in a black robe, white collar and glasses approached them from the altar, holding a book in his hand. "Who are they, Belmondo?" the priest asked the curator - presumably Belmondo.

"This is the young man who defeated the Elephants during the concert," Belmondo replied, nodding to Vanilla. "And this is his friend, Ramirez."

"Aha! I thought he looked familiar," the priest said, nodding to Vanilla, then nodded to Ramirez and said, "Pleased to meet you." Ramirez couldn't help noticing how the priest eyed his clothes and the sword hanging at his hip. He nodded back to the priest silently, inwardly annoyed.

"This attack was a whole different story," Belmondo said as he turned back to Vanilla. "Earlier this afternoon, the Killer Elephants overran our city! We tried fighting back... b-but there were just too many of them." Belmondo's shoulders slumped and he sighed. "What's going to happen to us now?" he said despairingly.

"God is watching," the priest said, touching a hand to his chest briefly. "We must have faith." He eyed Vanilla speculatively as he seemed to remember something. "You're friends with Connie, aren't you? Do you think you can reach her mother? She must be terribly worried with all that's going on." With that, he nodded to them again and headed back up the aisle towards the altar.

Vanilla held and arm across his stomach and propped the elbow of his other arm on it briefly, holding his chin in thought. He looked up after a moment and nodded to Ramirez. "Well, I should see Connie's mom and give her the medicine Dr. Nutmeg gave me," he said and started walking out of the church. Ramirez followed along, briefly at a loss as to what to do.

When they stepped outside, the sun was already setting and Ramirez got his first good look at Nefroburg after being rushed through it by the KE guards. The streets were filled with the odd-looking pink and purple Trotmobiles of the Killer Elephants, and the surrounding buildings showed signs of severe damage with construction scaffolding erected around them. In the center of what he'd overheard called Station Square, which the church opened out onto, was a rise that held a pillar-like monument in the center that was surrounded by park benches and trees. The sidewalks also held street lights which, from the flicker or flame and an almost inaudible hiss when standing nearby one, were gaslights.

The two of them started walking down a side street, but before long Ramirez looked over at Vanilla and asked, "What did the curator mean when he said you defeated the Elephants at the concert?"

"Oh. A few days ago the Garland Globetrotters held a concert in Station Square." At Ramirez's blank look, he continued, "A really popular band. My friend Connie is the lead singer. Anyway, the Killer Elephants attacked while everyone was at the concert and I helped the Globetrotters defeat them." He waved a hand towards the damaged buildings. "That's when all that happened."

Ramirez frowned and looked over as another Killer Elephant Trotmobile tramped past on the street. "Who are the Killer Elephants anyway?"

"A bandit gang that usually attacks travelers outside of town, but it looks like they decided to take over Nefroburg. And all the Trotmobiles in it," he finished, looking glum.

Ramirez looked back at the Killer Elephant Trotmobiles in surprise. Bandits_ took over an entire town?! Where were their soldiers? It could be that Valua adding this country to the Empire would be doing them a favor._

He looked up when Vanilla suddenly stopped at a crosswalk and said, "Connie's mom lives across the street in those buildings over there. Do you want to come along?"

Ramirez glanced over at the buildings, then back at Vanilla and shook his head. "No, I think I will look around a bit." _Besides, you're no longer of much use if you don't have your Trotmobile any more._

"Alright, maybe I'll see you later then. Bye," Vanilla said, waving then turning and running across the street.

Ramirez watched him go, slightly contemptuous. "He trusts too easily," he muttered under his breath. He had to admit, though, that Vanilla was a likeable sort in his own way. He frowned slightly, considering how young Vanilla was; he remembered a friend who was that age and who was also blonde, coincidentally...

_Fina..._

Ramirez blinked, then suddenly shook himself out of it, growling low in his throat. _I'm getting distracted. I serve Lord Galcian._ He looked around, and noticed a building nearby that had a sign above its door with the picture of a necklace and the word 'Clothes' above it. He smiled. _Perhaps I can finally do something about blending in a bit better,_ he thought as he started over towards the store, one hand touching one of the sacks of gold at his waist.

--

Some time later, Ramirez stepped out of Fashion Ronde, holding a paper wrapped package that contained his sword under one arm. He wore a suit of local cut, with a black button-down shirt with a red vest over it, a black suit jacket with golden cufflinks, a red bowtie, black pants and shiny black-leather shoes with small golden buckles.

The woman who owned the store had been delighted to see an actual customer walk in who wasn't merely a Killer Elephant eyeing her, and even more delighted to see that it had been a _rich_ customer. Looking down at his outfit, Ramirez wondered if she had overdone it a bit. As it was he'd had to stop her from adding a hat to the outfit.

He looked into the sky to see that the last of the daylight was fading and that the sun must have set a while ago. The street lamps now provided most of the illumination along the street, along with the headlights of the Killer Elephant Trotmobiles. _Maybe I should look into obtaining a Trotmobile of my own,_ he thought. It would be useful to show to Lord Galcian and might also provide a means of reurning to Meme Village, if it had the proper frames.

Ramirez wandered back toward Station Square, looking at the stone and brick architecture - so different from all the steel in Valua - and taking in the sights. When he reached the pillar at the center of Station Square he discovered that Nefroburg was built on the site of King Nefro XV's castle with the original castle walls still protecting the town, and that Station Square now occupied the site of the beautiful Winter Rose garden.

_Whoever King Nefro XV was, and whatever the Winter Rose garden was,_ he thought, and walked over to a large building that had several pennants flying from it. A closer look let him see the red sign that read 'Arena - Trotmobile Battle' and the Killer Elephant guards standing in front of all the doors. When he casually asked what they were doing there, the one in charge replied, "The gladiators here are though, so we've boxed 'em in." Ramirez considered that bemusedly as he walked away. _They're more worried about gladiators than the authorities in the city?_ He shook his head. What a strange country.

He waited at a crosswalk as a man in a red uniform and white pith helmet directed traffic in front of him, then walked across the street and noticed the sign hanging in front of it. It read 'Theater', but had some shape in outline on it with what looked like a beam of light coming out from it. _What sort of theater focuses on light?_ Curious, Ramirez walked in and blinked as he saw the devastation within; rubble was piled up on the sides of the carpeted floor. There were strange pictures on the walls with their titles emblazoned right on them, and signs saying that they were 'movies'.

_Curiouser and curiouser._ He walked over to a man with a bushy white mustache, glasses that had a pipe sticking out of his mouth. "I spent all the money I had to build this theater, but... When the bandits attacked, all our reels were burned," he said to Ramirez's questions. "Without those films, there's nothing to show! Without anything to show, I can't make any money. Our stocks are dropping like rocks..."

That raised more questions than answers. Some more questions enlightened him: apparently, shining light through a type of film could project pictures onto a large screen and running a reel of such pictures made them seem to actually move - thus the term movies. They had no sound, but were accompanied by other pictures of text that showed what the people on the screen were saying, and occasionally someone playing music on a piano. _What an interesting concept. Why didn't Valua ever think of that?_

The whole 'stocks' concept remained a mystery, though. The man had built and ran this theater, yet people were able to buy pieces of it and make money off something called dividends, or sell them later for a lump sum. _They buy bricks out of the walls? And they get more expensive?, _he wondered.

By the time Ramirez walked out of the Nefro Theater it was completely dark outside except for the streetlights and the few Killer Elephant Trotmobiles still patrolling the city. He yawned and realized how long a day it had actually been, considering that this morning he'd been in Meme Village preparing for this trip. A quick question to a passerby revealed that there was an inn just down the street. He walked into the place and spoke to the man behind the counter. "Welcome to the James Inn," he said. "You can use a room on the second floor if you'd like t'rest."

He trudged up the stairs and walked into one of the rooms, then set his paper-wrapped sword aside and took off his shoes and jacket to lie down. He was fast asleep when the rumble of Killer Elephant Trotmobiles faded outside.

--

Ramirez was still pulling on his suit jacket when he came down the stairs to the main room of the James Inn. "Mornin'. How'd you sleep?" the innkeeper called over.

"Well enough, thank you," he replied, walking over to a small table and sitting on a stool. "I'll have some of that sausage," he continued, nodding to a pan with its sizzling contents. The innkeeper waved to show that he'd heard as someone else came down the stairs, still yawning. They stared at each a moment, before Vanilla smiled and said, "I wondered where you were. Hey, nice clothes!"

"Er, thanks," Ramirez replied, and watched as Vanilla walked over and sat on a stool at the same table. He tried to get annoyed at that, but found himself shrugging inwardly instead. Vanilla seemed to be a difficult person to get annoyed with.

The innkeeper brought two plates of sausage over a moment later, and grinned at Vanila. "No charge for the guy who got rid of the Killer Elephants," he said, and walked away after picking up the UR Ramirez set on the table.

Ramirez stared after the innkeeper, then looked at Vanilla to seem him smiling and rubbing the back of his head. "You got rid of the Killer Elephants?" he asked him. "How?"

"Well... Connie's neighbor gave me the idea, actually," Vanilla began. He told his story and Ramirez found himself impressed. Vanilla had managed to trick the personnel manager for the gang to let him join, then had gotten his Earl Grey II back and made his way to the Killer Elephants' hideout to confront their boss whom he'd defeated in a Tromobile battle. "He was impressed enough that he sent some carrier pigeons into Nefroburg with orders to pull out of the city."

Ramirez shook his head. "I don't know whether you're skilled or just lucky," he said, and Vanilla grinned. Despite himself, Ramirez found himself smiling back.

"Oh, Connie came back from Happy Garland when she heard Nefroburg had been attacked," Vanilla said. "She's heading back on the train this morning and I was going to see her off. Want to come along?"

"Sure," Ramirez said, and took a few more bites of his breakfast before asking, "Happy Garland?"

"It's another city in the country, or so I've guessed," Vanilla said, shrugging.

_Oh well. Different places, different tastes, I suppose,_ Ramirez thought, and finished his breakfast. He walked out of the inn to the Early Grey II where it stood parked next to an orange cone and climbed into the passenger's seat. As the Trotmobile began making its way to the Nefroburg Station, he saw what Nefroburg looked like when it wasn't under occupation by a bandit gang. There were other Tromobiles walking along, in addition to four wheeled vehicles with no limbs and merely had seats inside shaped metal box. When he asked Vanilla what they were, he said they were 'automobiles'. There were also larger four wheeled vehicles that were called a 'bus' that provided public transportation.

He wrinkled his nose at a distinct reek in the air, and after a moment he realized it was the smoke that spewed out of the Trot and automobiles. Vanilla informed him that they ran on 'gas', a distillation of a substance called 'oil', while larger Trotmobiles ran on a mineral called 'coal'. _Ugh, what a stench. I'll take Moon Stones any day._

Vanilla parked his Trotmobile by another orange cone - apparently they marked parking spaces in Nefroburg - and Ramirez followed him into the train station. He found the idea of rail cars traveling between cities to be an interesting one. In Arcadia, settlements were usually on smaller, isolated islands or in geographically isolated areas to avoid to roving hordes of monsters that lived on continents. The rail line he knew merely served as transport within the city of Valua and out to the Grand Fortress.

They walked into the train station and saw two people waiting for them. One was Belmondo, the museum curator he'd met at the church the day before, while the other one--

_Wow,_ Ramirez thought as he caught sight of the girl standing there. She had long brown hair pulled mostly back into a ponytail, though some remained loose to frame her face, and brown eyes. She wore a pendant around her neck, a pick halter top with white lace trimming on the edges of the sleeves and bottom edge, a red skirt with white lace trimming on the bottom, fishnet stockings, a black satchel hung diagnolly from one hip to the other, and black boots.

"Oh, hi," she said, sounding almost surprised to see Vanilla. "Thanks for coming." She looked at his companion curiously. "Who's this?"

"I met him on my way to Dr. Nutmeg's," Vanilla replied. "His name is Ramirez."

"Pleased to meet you," Ramirez said, bowing slightly. Vanilla blinked and looked at him in surprise.

"My name is Coriander, but most people call me Connie," she replied, smiling and nodding back, then looked back at Vanilla. "Be sure to stop by and cheer Mom up from time to time."

"Oh, and Connie!" Belmondo cut in, "Please send us any exhibits that you find. Could you tell the other Globetrotters, too?"

"Of course," Connie replied, nodding.

"We all appreciate it," Belmondo replied. "Oh look, it's the Station Manager," he continued as a man in a blue uniform walked out from a back office.

"I guess I'll be leaving soon," Connie said.

"Hey, what's the deal!?"

"What do you mean we can't depart?"

The four of them looked over at the complaints rising from the people standing near the man in the blue uniform. "I'm sorry, the problem is currently under investigation," the Station Manager announced. "It seems there was an accident in the Quail Tunnel."

"Uh oh... Looks like the train won't be leaving soon," Belmondo commented, looking nervous.

Connie looked a bit panic stricken. "How am I going to make it in time for the concert!? Isn't there another way to reach Happy Garland?"

"...W-without going through the Quail Tunnel?," Belmondo asked, sounding a bit incredulous. "Y-y-you'd have to make it across the Sabbia Desert."

Connie stared at Belmondo a moment, then lowered her head as her shoulders slumped slightly. "...Oh."

After a moment, Connie looked back up at Vanilla. "Umm... I know I've already caused you a lot of trouble, but... Could you please take me to Happy Garland? It's... across the desert," she said. Her tone became desperate as she continued, "But I have to make it to the concert! Please!"

Vanilla smiled and nodded to her, saying, "Not a problem. We should get going."

"Oh, thank you!" Connie said in relief, clasping her hands together briefly.

"But, uh..." Vanilla looked at Ramirez. "What will you do, though?" Connie also turned to look at him, and Ramirez found himself staring at her a moment before he looked away and shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"I'm not sure yet.." he admitted. The girl was beautiful, despite being some years younger - roughly Vanilla's age - and he found his mind drawing a blank in her presence.

"Hey, why don't you come with us to Happy Garland?" Connie suggested, then looked a bit crestfallen. "Oh, but Vanilla's Trotmobile can only carry two people."

Ramirez pursed his lips in thought a moment, and slipped a hand into a pocket filled with UR and gold. "I was thinking about getting a Trotmobile of my own... Can you wait while I purchase one?"

"Do you have enough money?" Vanilla asked in surprise.

Ramirez nodded and said, "I think I do."

"I think we can wait for a little bit," Connie said. "What do you think, Vanilla?"

"Sure," he said agreeably.

"Alright," Ramirez said, nodding. "I'll be back soon, then." He turned and started walking out of the station, stopping briefly to look back at Connie.

--

Galcian glared out of his half of the rail car that had been blasted in half by that old pirate ship. That damned pirate who called himself Vyse had made off with the Silvite girl in addition to freeing his comrades from the Colosseum just before their execution. _Nobody thwarts the Valuan Empire,_ he thought coldly. _And_ _more importantly, nobody thwarts __**me!**_


	6. Chapter 6: A Journey Begins

It didn't take long for Ramirez to find a Trotmobile for sale. There were two older model Trots next to Nefroburg Motors, and the mechanic inside was willing to part with his two-legged one. "Always maintain your Trotmobile in good condition," he advised after he'd received the payment.

Ramirez nodded to him and went back outside to climb into his new Trotmobile. He frowned as the engine took some effort to turn over, then started rumbling with a cloud of exhaust. _Perhaps De Loco can find some way to make these things run on Moon Stones instead of this 'gas' stuff,_ he thought as he waited to see if anything else would happen. When it remained calm he picked up the user's manual next to the seat and flipped through it, his brow furrowing in confusion over the complicated controls. _This will take some getting used to._

He brought his Trotmobile around back into the garage and had them give it a full checkup, as he would have done with any ship he'd have flown in in Arcadia. "Y'know, you can personalize it if you want," one of the mechanic's commented as they went to work. "Change its paint job and give it a new name."

Ramirez raised an eyebrow, then set a hand on the console of the cockpit as he thought it over. He smiled as he said, "I shall call it... Corvus."

When he brought the Corvus back out of the garage, it was running substantially smoother and was colored jet black with a secondary coloring of red. He'd also had the right arm frame replaced with one that had a sword attached to it, and the left arm replaced with a cannon much like the frame on Vanilla's Earl Grey II. He'd also replaced the bird legs frame with the human ones and the roll bar 'windshield' frame with an actual roof and windshield to shield his rather pale complexion from the elements. _The Moons may give me strength, but the sun just burns me,_ he thought sourly. It had been one of the more unpleasant experiences when he'd first came down to Arcadia, and he had no desire to experience it again in the Sabbia Desert.

Ramirez started piloting Corvus through the city back to the Nefroburg Station. Along the way, a part of him started to wonder why he was going to Happy Garland with Vanilla and Connie. _You already have a Trotmobile, and you've learned other things here in Nefroburg. Why?_

As if in answer, he rounded the corner into Station Square and saw Vanilla and Connie waiting for him in the Earl Grey II. _Connie..._

He'd met many beautiful women in his life, not least among them Belleza of the Armada. He'd had a minor crush on her when he'd first met her, but after what had happened on board the Aquila with Admiral Mendosa he'd developed a loathing for all Valuans, all humans. All of them except for Lord Galcian. He had seen the true way of the world and had the power and will to forge a better one.

But Connie... He was drawn to her for some reason. She was beautiful, but she was also--

"Ready to go then?" Vanilla said cheerfully as Corvus walked up.

Ramirez blinked and looked over at them, jarred out of his musings. Vanilla and Connie were smiling at him from the cockpit of the Trotmobile, and he found himself smiling back. "Yes, I suppose I am," he replied. He followed along as they headed for the city gate.

--

Willie watched with folded arms as Otto brought the Flap Flyer to the top of the hill. "Maybe we should increase the wing span," he suggested as Otto extended the wings out for another try.

"Let's try it with this increased wing flap first," Otto said enthusiastically. Willie smiled; no matter how many times they failed, no matter how many leg frames they went through with repeated landings, Otto's spirits never seemed to dim.

"Alright, here goes!" Otto brought the Flyer running, then jumped into the air and started flapping. He grinned as it reached its zenith, reveling in the feeling of being in midair with the vast field of Vision Ranch stretched below him. Then he yelped as something crossed in front of the Flyer and ducked his head just as it began its drop back to the ground.

Otto quickly stopped the Flyer and folded the wings back in as he turned to look up in annoyance. "Dang birds," he muttered. "I oughta..." He trailed off and gaped upward. Whatever he'd expected to see, it wasn't what was there. Instead of a bird, he saw... "A bunch of fish!?" he exclaimed. Sure enough, flying in the air above the rutted path and heading over towards Dr. Nutmeg's house was a school of fish, soaring along with their fins and tails as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Hey bro, what's wrong?" Willie called down to him from the top of the hill. For once speechless, Otto just pointed. Willie turned and took a step backward in surprise. "Wha--!? Are those fish!?"

"Sure looks like it," Otto said, dumbfounded and awed at the same time as he watched them flit around through the sky. He looked back up the hill to make another comment to Willie, but found himself yelling, "Watch out!" instead.

Willie blinked and looked down the hill at Otto, then spun around and gaped as he saw what looked like giant snail floating through the air towards him. It had a large brown shell with green stripes, two orange eyes just below the edge of the shell with two grayish-brown tentacle-like appendages stretched out in front of it and a third portion of its slimy looking body extending backward under the shell.

"What the--!?" Willie yelled, then threw himself to the side as the snail thing suddenly raised its entire body up and fired a black cloud towards him from the bottom of its body. The plume continued past a short ways before dissipating. He rolled over to see the snail thing come floating at him as he lay on the ground and yelped in terror just as a large shape came running up and slammed into it, sending it flying into the wall of the garage.

"Stay away from my li'l brother, you... you... whatever you are!" Otto yelled as he walked after the thing in the Flap Flyer. The snail had righted itself and fired another black cloud at the Flap Flyer that dissipated around the Trotmobile with no effect. Otto extended a wing out and brought it crashing down onto the snail thing, snapping the wing in half in the process. But the snail thing slumped to the ground and gave a last squeak as it went still.

Willie got to his feet as Otto climbed down from their Trotmobile, and both brothers stared at the thing that had attacked them. "Wha... What the heck is that?" Otto asked, bringing a hand up and scratching his head through his cap.

"I dunno, bro," Willie replied, then looked back up as the school of fish went flying by overhead. "Hope there aren't any more of 'em, that's for sure."

--

The Cruiser Captain lowered his spyglass from his eye and shook his head. The reports of Valuan ships coming through the vortex had been right - monsters and fish were also coming through during their flight patterns in Mid Ocean. So far he'd seen Sky Sardis fish in addition to the more dangerous Marocca, Grouder, Throkryn and Scorfly monsters, flying in the air above Lake Luminoso and Meme Village. "They've probably shown up on the other side of the lake too," he said, and sighed. Valua might not have wanted to give the natives any idea of their presence, but the appearance of Arcadian creatures was going to be impossible to hide. _Admiral Ramirez and Lord Galcian aren't going to be happy,_ he thought, and shivered.

--

Ramirez dodged his Corvus back as the spinning wheel of spikes rumbled past, and he briefly saw the terrified expressions of the two merchants tied to the flat end of it as one of them yelled, "Help me!". The glowing orange lights of the center of the device, which was apparently known as a Dervish, that were placed to look eyes swiveled to look at him behind the bars that protected them from attack. From behind the Dervish, Vanilla's Early Grey II aproached holding a boulder up with both arms. He flung it at the machine as Ramirez raised Corvus' arm and fired it's cannon into it. The central portion went up in an explosion, and the bar attached to the spiked wheel collapsed against the ground.

The bandit that had been controlling the Dervish went flying through the air and landed on the ground rolling. He quickly got to his feet and ran, looking over his shoulder in fear at the two Trotmobiles. Ramirez considered sending a cannon shot after him, but instead watched as the Earl Grey II walked over to the wheel and snapped the ropes holding the merchants to it. "Thank God you showed up!" one of them gasped as he stumbled, obviously still dizzy from the wheel's rolling.

"Not a problem," Vanilla called down, smiling and waving, then sighed as he looked back along the dusty ground to other darker circles of plowed up dirt where other Dervishes had stood. "It's horrible how many of these things are, and what they do to these merchants."

Ramirez grunted as he watched the merchants stagger off. _These bandits certainly act like Black Pirates,_ he thought. The bandits in the Zibala Hill area, which led towards the Sabbia Desert, not only robbed the wayfaring merchants passing through the area but tortured them by tying them to the spinning wheels of the Dervish's sole weapon.

The two Trotmobiles continued their way down the hill, then across the stretch of flat ground in front of a stone wall with scrub bushes growing at it's base extending between two bare rock faces. "This should be Fort Raven," Connie said, "The gate to the Sabbia Desert. We should get some supplies while we're here."

The Earl Grey II and Corvus walked up the gate in the wall and waited for it to open before walking through. They had just barely made it through when a small green Trotmobile flew past them and slammed into the wall. Vanilla and Ramirez looked at the Trot, then looked forward to see a large black and red Trotmobile with a spider leg frame standing there.

"Ah c'mon, yer all too weak!" the large Trot's pilot said. "Isn't there anyone worth fighting!?" He suddenly noticed the two Trotmobiles that had just walked through the fort's gate and said, "Eh? You here t'fight me?"

Ramirez raised an eyebrow. Whoever this guy was, he didn't lack for guts.

"That's right," Vanilla said, rolling his shoulders to get any kinks out of them, "Let's get this over with."

"Ohhh ho! You've got a pair. But big talk won't help you none," the arrogant Trot pilot said. "You first, blondie."

Vanilla walked the Earl Grey II forward and a crowd of the fort's residents made a circle around them to watch. Ramirez leaned back in his cockpit seat and folded his arms, watching with a small smile. Having seen Vanilla in action and hearing his exploits, he knew the guy was going to get a surprise.

Somebody fired a pistol into the air to start the match, and the two Trots started circling each other. Ramirez's eyes widened as a giant spiked ball shot out from the black and red Trot, attached to a chain. Vanilla used his thrusters to dodge to the side of the attack, and the chain reeled the ball back in. The Earl Grey II charged in and slashed with the pickaxe as the ball was still getting reeled in, and the Trot rider slashed back with a sword. Vanilla dodged back and jinked his Trot around to avoid his attacks with the spiked ball, then hurried forward again and picked up the black and red Trotmobile. He immediately threw it and it hit the ground hard. Vanilla moved in and fired some cannon shots into it as it picked itself up from the ground, then dodged back as it landed another slash with its sword.

"Careful," Ramirez muttered under his breath, looking back and forth between the two. Vanilla's Earl Grey II was the far smaller of the two Trots, and he'd heard the smaller ones couldn't take as much punishment before they broke down. The bigger one fired it's spiked ball again, but Vanilla again jinked aside then rushed in and picked up the black and red Trot as it was reeling it back in. He again threw it immediately, then rushed forward until the Earl Grey II faced it's rear and started firing cannon shots into it at close range. The big Trot got up and tried to turn to face him, but Vanilla kept his Trotmobile walking to stay behind it, repeatedly firing his cannon. Eventually, smoke poured out of the black and red Trotmobile and it slumped to the ground with a groan of hydraulics.

"I...I'm Dudley!" the arrogant pilot - Dudley - said in disbelief, "How could I lose!?" He glared at Vanilla, and continued, "There's no way you'll get away with this!" He turned his black and red Trot around and walked it away sullenly.

Ramirez started walking Corvus forward as the green Trotmobile from before walked up to the Earl Grey II. "Are you alright?" it's pilot asked in a weak-sounding voice. "Mister, you're super strong! I didn't think anyone could beat Dudley! My name's Jimmy. Everyone else calls me 'Wuss' or 'Wussy' or 'Jimmy the big fat wuss'. What's your name?"

"I'm Vanilla."

"Vanilla? Like... **the** Vanilla? Didn't you beat the Killer Elephants? Man, no wonder you beat him..." Jimmy said.

"Jimmy, are you alright?" Vanilla asked.

"Ah, thanks for worrying about me. But, y'don't need to. I'm used to being picked on," Jimmy said matter-of-factly, shoulders slumped forward. "I'm supposed to be a gladiator, believe it or not," he continued, sounding proud. His voice weakened again as he continued, "Well, ex-gladiator. After years of hard work, I got a D Rank license from the Nefroburg Arena. But I just couldn't handle it. I ran away.

"I'm talking too much--sorry," he suddenly said, then muttered loudly to himself, "Why do I always **do** this!?" Vanilla and Connie exchanged a look, and Ramirez rolled his eyes. _I know the weak are supposed to serve the powerful, but this guy couldn't even do that!_ he thought disdainfully.

"I'll be around here, so if you have any questions, just ask. Okay? Thanks again for today," Jimmy said, then walked his Trot away.

Ramirez walked Corvus forward and nodded to Vanilla, saying, "Nice job."

"Thanks," Vanilla said, grinning. "That Dudley guy needed to be taken down a notch. C'mon, let's go get some supplies."

The two Trotmobiles made their way towards the parking spaces near the marketplace, but before they could get there a bearded man wearing a gutrah and loose cotton clothes walked up. "Hey, you there!" he called up to Vanilla. "That was some match back there! I've never met a rider like you."

"Oh, it was nothing," Vanilla replied modestly, smiling.

"Phew, Lady Luck hasn't walked out on me yet!" the bearded man commented, then continued, "Would you mind escorting my humble little caravan here? I can't reach Alcazar de Condor without crossing this desert. There's thieves out there, y'know. We'll never make it without your help. Once we get there, I'm willing to pay you for each Trotmobile you protect. _And_ I'll even pay for gas! So, whattya say, huh?"

Ramirez frowned as he looked at the man. He looked and acted remarkably like a Nasrean, which raised his hackles a bit. He glanced over at Vanilla to see he and Connie looking back at him. Ramirez was still frowning, so Vanilla sighed and looked back at the man, saying, "I'm going to have to decline."

"Hmph," the man said, looking sour. "Well, if you change your mind, just let me know."

The three of them descended from the two Trotmobiles after they'd parked and headed into Fort Raven's marketplace. It was a lively place, with crowds of people walking around and eyeing merchandise at stalls for spices, carpets, cheeses, fruits, antiques, clothing, bread and meats where merchants haggled with customers and loudly cried out the virtues of their wares. Near the back of the marketplace were entertainers, with a belly dancer and a snake charmer both performing for small crowds that tossed UR onto the carpets they performed on.

"This place is amazing," Connie commented as the three of them wandered around from stall to stall.

Ramirez was staring in surprise at some animals tied to the fence that marked off the marketplace. They were four legged creatures with long necks, light brown fur and great humps on their backs. "What are those things?" he asked.

"They're called camels," Vanilla replied. "I don't think I've ever seen any up close."

"Camels," Ramirez said thoughtfully. "They look almost like Dhabu, except--" He suddenly fell silent.

"Dhabu?" Connie asked, frowning in confusion. "What's a Dhabu?"

"A... creature I heard about in a story back home," Ramirez said. It _was_ technically true, since the Elders had told both he and Fina about them and other animals on Arcadia. "They have two large legs and two small front arms, and they have a flat trunk hanging in front of their mouths and their fur is either purple or pink."

Connie giggled. "Wow! Those Dhabu sound amazing. Too bad they aren't real, I'd like to see one someday."

Ramirez smiled back, but felt a cold sweat break out. _That was too close,_ he thought. Perhaps he really wasn't cut out for espionage... He was getting far too relaxed.

Vanilla and Connie walked over to the bread stall, while Ramirez headed over to the clothing stall across the way. "Welcome welcome!" the female merchant called to him, and gestured to the samples of clothing arrayed on displau around her. He blinked as he looked at the desert garb which looked almost exactly like Nasrean outfits he'd seen. "I suppose deserts can produce the same type of people," he murmured to himself softly, then smiled as he female desert garb, a billowy loose outfit of white and red cotton. "I'll take that," he found himself saying, and paid the merchant as she handed it over.

Vanilla and Connie walked over to him. "We just got some desert bread," Vanilla said. "It's eaten by the people here. It's kinda plain, but it's moist and it should keep well."

"What did you get, Ramirez?" Connie asked curiously.

"I got this desert garb for you..." he replied, handing her the outfit.

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "These clothes would be perfect for when it's hot outside."

"I wonder what else they have," Vanilla commented, and walked over to the clothing stall. He ended up buying himself a pair of swimming trunks made out of denim. "You never know when you'll need a swimsuit," he commented. "Are you going to get some, Ramirez?"

"Ah, no thanks," Ramirez replied. He'd tried swimming in the past, but found it only good for exposing his skin to the sun. _Too bad there isn't some way to block the sun._

The three of them headed back to the gate leading out to the Sabbia Desert, but found a blue-uniformed policeman with a metal helmet and wood club guarding it. "It's dangerous out in that desert, what with the climate and the Desert Hornets," the policeman said. "I'm afraid we can't permit you to leave unless you have a reason for doing so."

Connie pleaded with him about her need to get to Happy Garland but the policeman was adamant, and he hadn't heard about the accident in the Quail Tunnel either. "It looks like accepting the caravan job is the only way for us to cross the desert," she said.

Vanilla looked over at Ramirez. "It really does look like the only way."

Ramirez shrugged. "If it's the only way. I wouldn't want Connie to miss her concert." He felt a warm feeling pass through him as Connie beamed at him.

"So, have you thought about my offer?" the bearded man asked as he watched them approach.

"We'll take the job," Vanilla replied.

"Really!?" the bearded man said in surprise, "Thank you so much!" He turned and called to the Trotmobiles behind him, "Yo! Get it started!" He turned back to Vanilla and said, "The name's Delsen. I'm the president of Deloche Emporium. I just founded it recently, so I need this venture to succeed. There's a little time before we leave, so stock up at the bazaar if you want. You can't get out without this logo on your Trot, so don't lose it." He handed over two license plates that displayed a bag full of gold. "I'll wait here in my Trotmobile. Let me know when you're ready."

The three of them climbed into their two Trotmobiles and started over to Fort Raven's garage. "We'll get these attached, and then we'll be on our way," Vanilla said.

Ramirez looked towards the gate to the Sabbia Desert and sighed. _I hate the desert._


	7. Chapter 7: Desert Tales

Here is Chapter 7 of a Tale of Two Worlds. I've seen several readers, but no reviews. Constructive criticism and good reviews are both welcome.

--

Belleza, Fourth Admiral of the Valuan Imperial Armada, swayed and undulated her body to the Nasrean music, the gauzy purple silk veils hanging from her arms fluttering slightly in the hot air. She smiled and tipped a wink to the sailor sitting at one of the low tables in the tavern before turning away teasingly and resuming her dance.

She moved languidly, letting her movement against the air cool her skin without exerting herself too much in the heat. Her smile broadened slightly. _There certainly is enough skin out in the open to cool,_ she thought. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a high ponytail so that it swayed away from her neck and back, and her outfit consisted of a veil resting over her mouth, a gauzy, billowy pair of violet pants and an opaque violet sash looped around her neck, over her chest and tied behind her back.

Not that this was the typical sort of thing an Admiral of the Armada did. She was also the commander of the Armada's Imperial Intelligence and Special Operations Command branch, and was currently dancing in this tavern in the Nasrean village of Maramba for a mission. Currently she was 'Bellena', a Nasrean dancing girl, and had become the main attraction of this sleepy village. Her teeth flashed in a brief grin as she spun and swayed her arms. _Whatever I do, I like to do it well._

She was happy for more than one reason. One of her operatives down at the dock had reported that the pirate fishing boat had dropped off the pirates that had escaped from the Grand Fortress, before departing on bad terms. Now they were slowly making their way through Maramba asking around for ship owners. _That Silvite girl, Fina, must have them helping her look for the Red Moon Crystal._ The beginning threads of a plan were already knitting in her mind, and that would be enough to start with. Setting up an elaborate plan merely left you flat-footed when something went awry. Better to have a basic groundwork and improvise from there.

She let her mind drift as she spun, the light of the tavern gleaming against her flat stomach and the curve of her back. Inevitably her thoughts went back to the problem that had worried at her before she left Valua for Nasr. The Armada now had a Sixth Admiral, Lord Galcian's former Vice Captain Ramirez, since Fina's audience with the Empress. But the young man, who had been onboard the Serpent when it left Valua on the cruise that had ended up heading to Windmill Island, had been missing when it returned with Fina and the Air Pirate Dyne and his crew. And in the meantime, a force of Lord Galcian's personal ships had taken up station in Mid Ocean where a point of mysterious light was being spotted by passing ships.

_What is my lord up to?_ she wondered, and felt a familiar mix of pleasure and melancholy at the thought of Galcian. _He and Ramirez are usually quite close, planning something or other. And for a newly minted Admiral to still be missing after being endowed with his rank..._ The only prolonged disappearances of Admirals that she knew of were either when they were sent to oversee operations in Ixa'taka, or if they were on special operations. _Special operations..._

She brought herself back to alertness abruptly when three figures walked into the tavern. Two of them were girls, teenagers. One was recognizable as the elusive Fina, with the distinctive white Silvite outfit. The other matched reports of eyewitnesses from the Colosseum when Dyne and his crew were rescued, with two absurd red braids sticking out from either side of her head and a brief outfit of tanned leather with a blue belt. As for the third one, the male...

_Well, well. Isn't he... handsome._

--

Vanilla squinted as he walked his Earl Grey II through the gate into the Sabbia Desert and forward along the line of cargo-carrying Trotmobiles in Delsen's caravan. It wasn't so much the brightness of the sun, but the way the heat created a tremendous shimmering effect in addition to all the sand hanging in the air from endless winds. It created an intimidating sight for a person setting out to cross that expanse.

Delsen looked over as the Earl Grey II and Corvus walked up beside the lead Trotmobile. "It's just the Sabbia Desert from here on out," he called over the moaning of wind. "It's pretty vast, so you shouldn't just wander around blindly. Stay close if at all possible. If you get too far out, I'll shoot flares so you can find us.

"Be as careful as possible," he stressed, looking at Vanilla, Connie and Ramirez in turn. "If you run low on gas, talk to the man in the rear Trotmobile. Thieves have become _very _aggressive lately... I believe they're called the Desert Hornets. Whoever they are, we need your protection to get through."

The caravan started walking forward, and Vanilla started moving forward with them after moving his goggles over his eyes to protect them from sand. He felt sweat breaking out and soaking into his shirt underneath his blue leather vest. Next to him, Connie already had the desert garb Ramirez had given to her on.

Vanilla frowned slightly. _Ramirez acts differently around Connie. I wonder why._ He shrugged his shoulders. _Later. I've got to watch out for bandits._

Corvus walked up next to the Earl Grey II and paced alongside it. Ramirez looked comfortable enough in his enclosed cockpit, though he was still sweating from the heat. He called over, "Vanilla, I've been meaning to ask you. What was it that you went to see Dr. Nutmeg for?"

Vanilla looked back at him, surprised, and Connie looked at him with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Hm?" Vanilla looked at her, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." He looked over at Ramirez, and called, "I was seeing him because I'm having trouble with my memory. Connie found me unconscious on Seagull Beach, and when I woke up I had amnesia."

Ramirez frowned slightly on his otherwise immobile face - Vanilla wondered why he was so serious all the time. "Amnesia?" Ramirez asked.

"You don't know what amnesia is?" Connie asked, surprised. Vanilla smiled. _He does seem to have a lot of questions about stuff. He must've been _really_ isolated._

Between them, he and Connie explained what it was the best they could. Ramirez nodded slowly when he got the general concept. "Perhaps you're a Trotmobile gladiator," he suggested.

"Could be," Vanilla replied, smiling. "Dr. Nutmeg isn't sure when my memory is going to come back, so--"

They had just topped another sand dune when Delsen suddenly exclaimed, "It's... The Desert Hornets are coming!"

The three of them looked over in unison. Vanilla spotted the group of dark shapes rushing towards them, kicking up a trail of dust behind them. "Let's go!" Vanilla called, then kicked in his thrusters and headed for the group as quickly as he could. _The further out we meet them, the less damage they can do to the caravan,_ ran through his mind.

A glint of light off of something metallic caught his eye, and Vanilla looked down to see a sun-blasted section of a Trotmobile embedded in the sand as he hurried by. He blinked for a moment, startled, then narrowed his eyes behind his goggles. _That _won't _happen to me._

The Trotmobiles that were running up with astonishing speed were sand-colored with long bird-like legs with a gatling cannon in the nose of their body frames. One of them unleashed a volley of gatling fire at him as he approached, and he jinked the Earl Grey to the side. Vanilla gritted his teeth as he and one of the Desert Hornet Trots came straight at each other, then bent over and picked it up in one smooth motion. He threw the Trotmobile back down the sand dune and watched it skid downward a ways as it landed.

The Desert Hornet Trot quickly picked itself up as the others hesitated, staying nearby as Vanilla battled with one of their own. As he watched, Ramirez's Corvus topped the dune and landed a slash with its sword against one of the other Desert Hornet Trots, which started to bring it's gatling to bear on him.

He turned his attention back to the Trot in front of him, jinked aside as another burst of gatling was unleashed towards him. He fired his cannon and then kicked in his thrusters, following just on the heels of his cannon shell as it connected with the enemy Trot. He picked up the Desert Hornet again and threw it, watched it explode and the two bandits inside roll on the ground as they jumped from their doomed Trotmobile.

He turned to see two more bandits running and skidding down the sand dune and hopping up onto another Desert Hornet Trotmobile as the rest of the group began running off into the distance. Vanilla breathed a sigh of relief as he saw a flare burst overhead. He started towards it's source, and watched Ramirez's Corvus do the same.

Vanilla topped another dune and stopped for a moment, surprised; he heard Connie gasp beside him. Ahead was a patch of greenery on a rise, fringed with palm trees. Even through the driving wind blowing sand before it, he could take in the scent of plants and water.

"We'll make camp here," Delsen said as they stopped near the gate to what a sign declared was the Kharija Oasis. "We roll out in the morning, so everybody meet back then!" He and his men dismounted from their Trotmobiles and camels, and quickly made their way up the rise into the oasis. Vanilla and Ramirez followed along, parking their Trots and descending.

_So far so good._

--

Ramirez glared around at the dusty ground away from the edge of the oasis - it was easier than glaring up at the sun itself, which was the real reason for his bad mood. _Moons above, I hate the desert,_ he thought for about the hundredth time.

Vanilla and Connie were heading over to speak with Delsen and his men, who were relaxing on straw mats set around a campfire. The smell of cooking food was already filling the air. He watched them walk moodily, then started walking along the edge of the oasis in the opposite direction, deep in thought. _What's wrong with me? Usually I never feel anything..._ He felt anger rise, hotter for the fact that didn't know why he was angry in the first place.

Ramirez looked up and stopped as he saw a small hut with a dock around it; a small boy was sitting at the end of the small pier, legs dangling over the edge. He waved as he saw the stranger approach, and Ramirez hesitated a moment before approaching him.

"Hey, Mister," he said, looking up at him from where he sat. "You came from the desert, yeah?" Ramirez nodded silently, and the boy went on, "Grandpa told me when I get older, I should cross the desert and see the world. What's it like on the other side of the desert?"

He looked down at the boy coldly. "There are bandits everywhere, and people live in misery and sorrow," he said flatly.

"Bandits!?" the boy exclaimed. "Yikes!"

Ramirez turned on his heel and looked at the hut a moment before walking inside. It was cramped inside, with threadbare rugs lying on the floor and hanging against the back wall. There was a single wooden pallet with a carpet laying atop it, with a cylinder-shaped leather pillow. Sitting cross legged on a bench at the back of the hut was a man who looked positively ancient, with a long white beard and bushy eyebrows, and wore an outift of loose yellow shirt and pants. He had his right hand propped up on a wooden staff.

"Hello, young man," he said as his eyes focused on Ramirez. "Are you a caravan merchant? Or an escort rider? No matter how advanced technology becomes, mankind will always be helpless against the might of the desert." The eyes became disconcertingly shrewd as he asked, "What do you think?"

Ramirez eyed him levelly, inwardly annoyed. "I couldn't care less," he replied, expression stony.

"I see," the old man replied. "Ignoring my brothers' pleas to stay, I left my village decades ago and moved here. I've been living here ever since, under the enchantment of the desert's beauty." Ramirez raised a skeptical eyebrow - he saw nothing beautiful about the desert.

The old man seemed to misinterpret it, and continued, "My brothers? Oh, most likely, they've all passed away. It's been a long time since I last saw them."

Ramirez turned around and walked out of the hut without another word. "The last thing I need is to hear some senile old man babble on about his brothers and the..." He swallowed a few choice words, "...the desert."

He walked back to the other side of the oasis, green eyes narrowed in anger. His head started to rise to give the dusty ground another dose of glaring, but stopped dead when he saw the sight ahead of him.

Vanilla and Connie were apparently getting ready to go for a swim in the oasis, and had changed into their swimsuits. Vanilla had on his blue denim swimming trunks and a pendant with a large red gem, more noticeable now that they were the only things he wore. He had a skinny build, with thin arms and legs with large hands and feet, though his torso itself seemed to have some light muscle on it. It was quite plain he was no fighter of his hands, with his thin forearms. Ramirez's own were quite developed, and he had a callus along the ring of his thumb and pointer finger - a swordsman's callus.

But it was Connie that truly drew his attention. She still wore her bracelets on his right wrist, but had shed all her other clothing except for a pink and white bikini, a red sarong-like sash worn over the swimsuit's bottom. He could see how well-developed her figure was, the hourglass shape of her sides as they curved inward to her stomach and then widened again over her hips, and down to her thighs...

"We're going swimming! Want to come?" Connie called, waving. Ramirez tore his eyes away, his heart beating faster and his breath a bit short. He swallowed thickly and shook his head. "No... I don't have a swimsuit," he answered.

Connie waved her acknowledgement, and the two of them jumped into the oasis. They both surfaced, and Connie was laughing as she brushed her wet ponytail away from her neck. She splashed a bit of water at Vanilla, and he put an arm to defend his face, then quickly started striking out for the center of the oasis. Connie swam after him, the sun shining on her slick skin, the wet sash molding itself to her.

Ramirez found himself staring, and noticed a couple of Delsen's men watching him and trying to make it look like they weren't. He scowled and turned away from the oasis, heading over to the campfire. He hated being so transparent. But, his eyes kept looking over...

--

Vanilla stretched after he got up from his straw mat, his muscles still loose from the swim and feeling pleasantly full after a supper of desert bread. It was dark and starting to cool down, though the temperature remained warm. It was much more comfortable than the blistering heat of the daylight.

He wandered away from the campfire a ways and sat at the edge of the oasis, letting his legs hang over the edge. "A lot's going on..." he said quietly to himself. "Connie needs to get somewhere called Happy Garland, and... I just can't stop thinking about her for some reason." Vanilla sighed looked at the moonlit waters of the oasis. He'd had a lot of run swimming in the oasis with Connie, but seeing her in that swimsuit... it had made him nervous for some reason.

"Can't sleep either, huh?"

He looked up to see Connie walk over to him from the campfire, dressed in her desert garb. _Hey, there's Connie!_, ran through his mind as he stared over at her.

Connie sat next to him and let her legs dangle over the side, propping her hands on her lap and looking up at the stars. "The group is probably mad at me..." she said. "We have a concert coming up, and I just took off without warning. But, if we can make it to Happy Garland tomorrow, I think it'll be okay."

She suddenly looked over at him and said, "Hey, I was thinking... Could I maybe ask you questions about yourself?" Vanilla looked back at her, and she continued, "...It might jog your memory."

"Sure," he replied, nodding. "Ask me anything."

"Well, okay," Connie began uncertainly. "What kind of food do you like?"

Vanilla looked away and frowned slightly in thought, then grinned and replied in a sing-song voice, "I like fishes cause they're so delicious..."

Connie giggled a bit, startled, and Vanilla coninued, "Grilled is the best."

Connie considered it a moment. "...Maybe you lived by the ocean before you lost your memory." Uncertainly, "So, did that help you remember anything?"

"I remembered food I like," Vanilla replied optimistically.

"Hmm... Maybe if I ask you something else?"

Vanilla looked back at her and said, "I want to know more about you."

"Huh?" Connie blinked, confused. She continued in a small, uncertain voice, "Okay, what would you like to know?"

"Are there any... boys you like?"

"What!?" Connie replied, startled, and looked back at the oasis. "That's-- Well..."

She smiled, looked back, said, "It's a secret," and chuckled.

Her eyes trailed down and lit upon the pendant hanging around his neck. "...That's the pendant! I know I've seen it before." Vanilla looked down at it as she continued, "That's the one Mallow used to wear!" She looked at him inquiringly. "...Where'd you get that?"

"Dunno..." Vanilla replied, looking back at her. "Never really gave it much thought."

"I see..." she said softly, still watching his face.

"Mallow..." Vanilla said thoughtfully.

"He's the son of a well-known doctor," Connie replied. "You could say he was a friend of ours." She frowned. "...He picked on Dandelion and Chicory a lot, though."

"Who's Dandelion?"

"He used to lead the Garland Globetrotters, actually. Now he owns an instrument workshop near Happy Garland."

"Who's Chicory?"

Connie looked down at her hands resting on her lap. "He... He's Dandelion's younger brother, and..." She paused, staring at her hands, then finished, "...He's a friend." She looked back up at the stars. "I heard that Mallow went to study abroad. Nobody's heard from him since..."

She looked back at Vanilla, forcing a smile onto her face. "...Let's not talk about that." He face suddenly brightened as she asked, "Hey, did you get a chance to practice that song I gave you? You play, and I'll sing, okay? It'll be fun."

Vanilla smiled and nodded as he pulled his harmonica out of his pocket. He brought it up to his mouth and started playing as Connie sang, swaying slightly with her eyes closed:

_"When you're sad and blue,_

_Look into the blue sky_

_And your blueness might be soaked into the sky._

_When you feel like nobody,_

_Just look at the stars_

_And remember they are twinkling for you._

_In your eyes I see a pond of trouble,_

_You've been hiding from us all the time._

_But you can't keep it all in forever_

_Can't you see we are all right here for you._

_Now let me tell you one thing_

_We're all right here for you and only you._

_We will always sing for you_

_So why not sing along with us?_

_Let go of all your troubles_

_Be free of your mind and let it go._

_It's funny how things turn around_

_Just by singing out loud."_

"That was perfect!" Connie said as Vanilla slid the harmonica back into his pocket. "You'd fit right in with the Garland Globetrotters, you know." She yawned suddenly, said, "It's getting late. I think I'm going to go to sleep." She watched Vanilla a moment before softly saying, "Good night."

--

Some time later, Ramirez lay on his mat facing away from the fire, staring at the foliage that marked the edge of the rise the oasis sat on. The song still rang through his mind... as well as the conversation before it. He'd tried to sleep but had heard their voices.

He rolled onto his back and looked up at the moon. It was a yellowish-white, almost like a cross between the Silver and Yellow Moons. _But for some reason, it doesn't rain Moon Stones._ That much he had become sure of. Whatever this land was, it definitely wasn't Arcadia. Instead of an easily accessible power source that was able to be picked up from the ground after raining down from the sky, the people here needed to toil and drill and mine to reach deposits of oil and coal to power their machines and vehicles.

Ramirez rolled to his other side, and his gaze fell upon Connie asleep on her mat. He let air sigh through his nose. The words from the song she had sung...

_...In your eyes I see a pond of trouble,_

_You've been hiding from us all the time..._

...Rang with altogether too much truth.

Connie started to squirm in her sleep, face screwed up in discomfort. "Ugh... Chicory... I'm sorry... Forgive me... Dandelion..."

Ramirez blinked and rose up on one elbow. _She must be having a nightmare..._ He watched her, taking in her beauty, but also sensing... _A bond, almost. She's had some pain, some tragedy, in her past..._ He recognized the signs from his own experience; he had withdrawn into himself, suppressing his emotions and becoming the deadly right-hand man for Lord Galcian.

Connie seemed to have gone the opposite direction, forcing herself to maintain a natural friendliness and cheer, finding an outlet in her music as lead singer of the Garland Globetrotters. There was no mistaking that she was a good singer...

_...Just as I'm good with the sword,_ he thought, and lay back down. _Connie... What happened to you? What happened with Chicory and Dandelion?_

--

"Eeeyaaaahhhh!"

"What the--!?"

Ramirez awoke to see running feet that stopped and turned accompanied by an evil laugh. "If you want the girl back, she'll be at our stronghold." He rolled to his feet as he recognized the outfit the man wore as one of the uniforms worn by the Desert Hornet bandits back in the desert. Vanilla was already standing with his fists clenched. Ramirez dove for his paper-wrapped sword and tore it open savagely, but by the time he looked up he could see the Desert Hornet already making his escape.

One of Delsen's men started to run after them, then turned back as he saw the bandit's Trotmobile run off into the desert. "Oh no!" he exclaimed in a heavily accented voice. "Whatdowedo? Whatdowedo!?" He took in the sight of Vanilla on his feet, and watched as Ramirez wrapped his swordbelt around his waist over the suit jacket. "Those thieves are terrifying! Are you actually going after her!?"

"Yes, we are," Ramirez ground out in fury. Next to him, Vanilla nodded vigorously in agreement, said, "Of course we're going."

"Ooh! How incredibly brave!" Delsen's man exclaimed. "I'll... show you the way," he continued hesitantly. "I've done business at their hideout before." He turned and ran out to the caravan with Vanilla and Ramirez at his heels.

"Let's go in your Trotmobile, Vanilla," Ramirez said. When Vanilla looked over questioningly, he continued, "You're a good Trotmobile pilot, while I'm... more of a man of my hands." His hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword. Vanilla blinked, then nodded decisively just before they made it to the Earl Grey II and climbed into the cockpit.

Delsen's man was already on one of the camels as the Trotmobile walked down the incline of the oasis. "Okay! Just follow me..." he said to them, and whipped his camel into motion with a riding crop.

Vanilla sent the Earl Grey II after him with grim intensity. Ramirez nodded as he looked at him, then back forward. _Chasing bandits and making them pay. Now _this_ is familiar,_ he thought with a grim smile.

--

Delsen's man reined in his camel as the Earl Grey II stopped behind him, the three of them looking up at the wall of sharpened logs between two stone towers that reared up before them.

"Okay, we're here," Delsen's man whispered. "This is the stronghold." He rode forward to the gate and called up a password to the guard. It slid open and he rode through with the Trotmobile following. Ramirez kept his eyes busy as they went, looking for ambushes. "Follow me..." They continued up a series of ramps that led past lines of Desert Hornet Trotmobiles and camels tied up to hitching posts. The stronghold was quiet, with hardly any bandits to be seen.

"Something's wrong," Ramirez muttered, looking around.

"What do you mean?" Vanilla asked.

"They kidnapped Connie and told us where to find her... I'd think they'd be waiting with an ambush."

"Well, the guy from the caravan said he's done business here before, and it's the middle of the night. Maybe they don't expect us to show up until morning."

Ramirez started to denounce that as a stupid way of looking at it, then remembered some of the Black Pirate bands he'd helped crush in the past. He remembered one group that had boarded a Valuan trading ship and drunk themselves senseless on loqua. They had still been there when an Armada squadron had showed up less than an hour later, and they'd seemed genuinely surprised when cannon fire had sunk their pirate ship and Valuan soldiers captured them.

_You can not go far wrong underestimating the stupidity of your average bandit,_ he thought. He remained silent as Vanilla parked the Earl Grey, and climbed down to see Delsen's man waiting for them. "I'll go on ahead," he told them. "Make sure that nobody sees you, okay?" With that, he hurried up a ramp and into the inner keep of the Desert Hornet stronghold.

He and Vanilla exchanged a look. "So... which one of us should go?" Vanilla asked.

Ramirez looked up at the inner keep, then back at the Earl Grey II. "I'll go," he said decisively. "You keep the Trotmobile warmed up."

Vanilla opened his mouth to argue, then looked down at the sword and how expertly Ramirez held it's hilt, then nodded reluctantly. "I'll be waiting."

Ramirez nodded to him, then hurried up the ramp and opened the door silently, slid inside and shut it behind him carefully. His eyes scanned his surroundings, taking in the gaslights on the walls, as well as the crates, barrels and chests. He started forward, then stopped as he heard footsteps coming down stairs. He stepped to the side quickly and ducked behind one of the crates as a Desert Hornet came down the stairs.

The bandit walked over to look at a chest against the far wall, then moved to the room's only window and looked out of it, arms folded. Suddenly, he turned his head towards the crates and said, "What was that noise?"

Ramirez narrowed his eyes, then exploded upward and jumped onto a crate, using it to propel himself toward the Desert Hornet. The bandit barely had time to unfold his arms and take a surprised step back before the Silvite's sword was out of it's sheath and drawing across his throat in a silver blur. He gave a brief choked, gargling sound as he sagged to the floor, then abruptly fell silent as the sword flashed down again into his head.

Ramirez wiped his sword clean on the dead bandit's shirt, then quickly moved forward to the bottom of the stairs and took them two at a time silently as he ascended. He stopped at the top as he saw two more Desert Hornets sitting on crates with a game board between them, both with their arms folded and heads down, asleep. He stepped slowly and quietly past them through a narrow space between piles of crates, unwilling to make too much noise trying to kill both bandits before one of them woke up and shouted an alarm. He reached a small set of stairs at the end of the space and climbed up them into another room--

"You got a lot of guts, trying to sneak in here," a rough female voice said, and Ramirez turned quickly to see a woman dressed in a Desert Hornet's uniform, with the exception that her face was exposed and her shirt was purple. There were a group of Desert Hornets around her, one of them pointing a knife at Connie, who was tied up and sitting on the floor. "Drop the sword. Now," the woman commanded, eyes hard.

Ramirez's eyes flicked to Connie, to the dagger, then to all the bandits in the room. He clenched his jaw. _Damn. Too many of them to take down before one of them could hurt Connie..._ He slowly set his sword on the floor, his green eyes hooded and blazing hatred as he glared at the Desert Hornet woman.

Two bandits hurried forward and tied his wrists together behind his back, then looped more rope around his arms. They marched him forward to the woman, then shoved him down to his knees in front of her. She was dark-skinned with startlingly blue eyes, attractive with an athletic build. "You're not the one we were waiting for," she said. "Where's Mallow?"

"Mallow?" Ramirez glanced quickly over at Connie, and she looked as confused as he felt. "I don't know anyone named--"

"Here he is, boss."

Ramirez heard footsteps walking across the room behind him, then looked over as a tied up Vanilla was shoved to his knees next to him.

The Desert Hornet boss looked Vanilla over. "I will admit, you aren't at all what I imagined you'd be..." She smirked. "There's someone here who would like to meet you, Mallow." When Vanilla looked confused, she continued, "That's right, we saw the pendant! There's no use in hiding."

"No!" Vanilla protested. "I'm not Mallow!"

"It's a little late to start lying now, you fool," the boss said disdainfully.

"Wait! That isn't Mallow!" Connie said from off to the side.

The boss looked over distractedly, as if reminded of her presence. "Eh?"

The bandit standing guard over her pointed a finger in Connie's face, growling, "Shut up, you!"

The boss sighed, saying, "Why did you bring her in? I didn't order that." She blinked as she took a closer look at Connie, then turned to her and asked, "Aren't you Coriander, from the Garland Globetrotters?"

"He's lost his memory!" Connie said desperately. "He doesn't know anything about the pendant..."

"So you're saying that proves he's not Mallow?" the Desert Hornet boss asked.

"...Yes."

"Yeah, I didn't think he was either," she replied.

"But Boss!" the bandit standing over Connie protested.

"It's Coriander, you idiot. Why would she want to protect Mallow?" the Boss said. "And just look at the guy. There's no way he's Mallow. Untie them."

The bandits hurried forward and untied the three of them, then let them stand. "Uh... Thank you very much," Connie said.

"We're the ones that should apologize," the Boss replied. "I had no idea we'd kidnapped the lead singer of the Garland Globetrotters."

Connie brought her hands up protestingly and shook her head, saying, "Oh, I'm nobody special..." Ramirez glanced over at her; she sounded as if she believed it...

"Hey!" the Desert Hornet Boss said suddenly. "Since you're here, why don't you sing a song for us? We ruffians need to feel civilized every once in a while. There aren't any instruments, but... is that okay...?"

"Sure, that's fine," Connie replied with a nod.

--

Connie stood at the top of the ramp leading to the door of the inner keep, looking out over the crowd of Desert Hornets sitting cross legged down along it. The Desert Hornet Boss, Nora, stood off to one side with her arms folded, also watching. Vanilla and Ramirez were off to the side, the latter holding a hand on the hilt of his returned sword. Connie closed her eyes and started to sway slightly, singing:

_"Where do I fit in the picture of your world?_

_When you're soaring so high_

_And I am left alone_

_Here on the ground,_

_I can't_

_even see you anymore._

_So high up there,_

_Like a bird,_

_I wish I could fly to you,_

_But where are my wings?_

_You took them away from me_

_Never to_

_Give them back to me._

_You stole them from my back;_

_You ripped them off._

_The scars will be right there,_

_And I'll never be able_

_To fly right to you._

_Only 'cause I can't,_

_And it is you_

_Who made it_

_Impossible."_

There was applause after she finished as Nora, Vanilla and Ramirez walked forward to talk to her. "That was beautiful..." Nora said, her rough voice filled with emotion. "Just... Just give me a moment..." When she composed herself, she continued, "You're free to go now, but there is one last thing. Our people have been thieves for several generations. If we see you in the desert, it's all business, if you understand me." Her eyes took on a steely tone, then lightened as he continued. "But, once you walk through those gates, you're our guest. That's for the song."

"And you, not Mallow," she said, turning to Vanilla.

"Vanilla," he replied, placing a hand to his chest and bowing slightly.

Nora turned away from him to Ramirez, her expression stony. "And as for you," she said, her blue eyes glaring at him.

Ramirez glared back, clenching a hand on his sword. "Ramirez."

"You killed one of my men, Ramirez," Nora said, clenching a fist. Then she looked back at Connie, and sighed. "But... I guess you were doing what you thought was best." She looked back at Ramirez, glaring again. "They may be our guests, but you're not. Never come back to this stronghold, do you understand me?"

Ramirez eyed Nora consideringly. After a moment, he nodded and Nora returned it, the two of them exchanging a look of understanding. _She's rather formidable, _he thought. _A leader of men and a warrior._

Nora turned to a figure standing off to the side. "You!" she called.

"Yes--" Delsen's man coughed, then continued in a rougher voice. "Yes, Boss!"

"Oh, you're Delsen's assistant..." Connie said, pointing at him.

"Sorry," the man replied.

"He's also a Desert Hornet," Nora said to her, then looked back at the undercover bandit. "Our guests are leaving. Take them back to the oasis."

"Yes."

Nora walked back inside the keep as the Desert Hornets scattered back to their various tasks, or back to bed. The undercover bandit headed back down the ramp to his camel.

Connie turned to them, looking tired. "Let's get out of here," she said.

--

The Earl Grey II stepped out through the Desert Hornet stronghold's gate and stopped as it closed behind it. Connie sighed as soon as it was, and said, "I was really worried back there."

Vanilla looked over at her. "Why are people out to get this Mallow guy?"

"I don't know," Connie replied. "Most people didn't really like him much." She forced some cheer into her voice as he continued, changing the subject. "We should get back to the oasis, huh?"

The undercover bandit and Ramirez were on camels ahead of them, Connie having taken up the second seat in the cockpit. The camels moaned as they were brought into a gallop, and Vanilla piloted the Earl Grey after them.

_There's something wrong with this whole situation,_ Vanilla thought, and glanced down at his pendant briefly. _Connie knows something about Mallow, but she doesn't want to talk about it..._

The ride passed in an uncomfortable silence, Connie caught up in her own thoughts while Vanilla tried to think of a good way to get more information about Mallow. Vanilla braked his Trotmobile abruptly as sand started stirring over a large area of desert ahead of them. A light at the end of a metal pipe started rising from the sand, and Connie exclaimed, "What's that?"

Vanilla hurried the Earl Grey II forward as a metal tower with smokestacks followed the light out of the sand, then yelped as a large deck at the bottom of the tower rose up underneath his Trot's feet. _Holy--!? This thing is huge!_

He kicked his thrusters in and sped over to the tower, ramming into it. The tower dented with a metal screech, and Vanilla started unleashing cannon shots into it with his right arm frame. It pitted and scorched the surface of the blue-painted metal towers, occasionally punching a hole through. As the damage started to mount, the tower sank slowly back into the sand, leaving the Earl Grey II standing in the desert with no sign it had ever been there.

"...I guess it was bandits," Connie commented.

"Yeah..." Vanilla said, but he wasn't entirely convinced. He seen bandits operating some large Trotmobiles and machines, but that was a whole other scale...

They eventually reached the oasis to find the bandit and Ramirez waiting for them. "I must be going," the bandit said.

"You're not coming with us to Happy Garland?" Connie asked.

"My time here is over," the bandit replied. "I must return to the stronghold. Can you please inform Delsen, when he awakens? Tell him I said thank you, and that I won't forget his kindness." He smiled, and briefly went back to the heavily accented voice he'd used undercover. "I wish you much good luck." He turned his camel and galloped back across the desert towards the Desert Hornet stronghold.

"Thank you coming to rescue me..." Connie said as Ramirez walked over. "Both of you. Let's rest up for tomorrow."

--

The next morning, the Earl Grey and Corvus walked down to the fully manned caravan. "Good morning, all!" Delsen called out. "Anyone seen my assistant? I haven't seen him all morning. Have you heard anything?"

Vanilla looked over at Ramirez, who shrugged as if to say, _Your choice._

Vanilla looked back at Delsen and replied, "He told us to thank you, and that he wouldn't forget your kindness. Then he rode out into the desert, alone."

"He did...? Hm..." Delsen frowned as he considered that. "I suppose he had his reasons. ...He was always such a thoughtful man, though." He seemed to shrug it off, and called out, "Alright! Off we go!"

The caravan made it's way out into the desert on the final leg of the trip to Alcazar de Condor. Sure enough, as Nora had said the night before, more Desert Hornet Trotmobiles attacked the caravan along the way, and it became a running fight all the way to the canyon that led to the wall and gate protecting Alcazar de Condor from the Sabbia Desert and it's inhabitants. Vanilla and Ramirez again met them as far away from the caravan as possible. After the long battle, they finally reached the gate.

"...And here we are," Delsen said. "Let's head inside. We'll be able to talk after that." The gate slid up and the caravan's Trotmobiles trooped inside, the Earl Grey and Corvus taking up the rear.

When they got inside, Delsen descended from his Trotmobile and looked up at them as the two Trotmobiles approached. "Ah, here we are at last! You two have done a good job." He pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil as he continued, "I'll cut to the chase and start calculating your reward. We decided on 100 UR per Trotmobile, yes? I'll have to subtract damage, of course."

He started scribbling on the paper, glancing over at the Trots of his caravan every so often. "Let's see... no damage there... none there... uh huh... and that brings the total to... 600 UR. Here you go." He handed a jingling sack up to Vanilla. "I never would have imagined we'd get through without _any_ damage," he continued, looking surprised. "I'd like to hire you again, if possible. Please stay in touch."

Vanilla grinned as he walked his Trot away from Delsen and deeper into the empty space within the steel-reinforced stone walls of Alcazar de Condor. "600 UR, not bad for two days' work." He looked over at Ramirez and started to dig into the bag of money. "Here, 300 of it is yours."

Ramirez brought a hand up and shook his head. "No, I still have plenty myself. You hold onto it."

Vanilla blinked in surprise. "Really!? You sure? Okay..."

Connie smiled at them. "Come on! Happy Garland is just ahead!"

--

Belleza watched with her arms folded and a slight smile on her face as the Little Jack floated upward from the desert floor, ignoring the rush of wind and sand that blew around her. Soon it reached far enough above the sand dunes and the four wings on the hull sent the little ship zooming out across the sands of Nasr.

She sighed as he let her arms fall to her sides, her smile fading slightly as she looked back to where Recumen, the Red Gigas, had reburied itself at her command. "Well played, handsome..." she murmured to herself, then turned and started walking back towards her temporarily grounded flagship, the Lynx.

Fortunately she had contingencies for every eventuality, and a squadron of Valuan ships were already en route to salvage the Lynx and pick up her and her crew. _Not that I expected that rusty-armed old man to actually take my engine, _she thought wryly. They'd been extremely thorough in stripping her flagship of everything useful, including her Magic Cannon. "They just might prove to be a real nuisance to the Armada."

She waved as soon as she came within sight of her red armored Vice Captain, showing that she was alright after her talk with the Air Pirates. The Vice Captain waved back, then turned to get the crew moving to prep the Lynx for a tow back to Valua. Belleza shook her head. She'd never understood Admirals that mistreated their crews and spent their lives needlessly. Soldiers and sailors, like any asset, needed to be well maintained. _That, and I'll never willingly inflict on any of their families what happened to me,_ she thought, her smile disappearing.

She continued walking along, then frowned slightly as a thought came to mind. _Special operations... Ramirez..._ The point of light in Mid Ocean was still bothering her. _Perhaps that's where young Ramirez has gone? Is he overseeing that anomaly in Mid Ocean? Why would Lord Galcian have an Admiral oversee a new Discovery?_ Discoveries were usually reported to the Sailors' Guild for money on the barrel, as it were, and then left alone. _This Discovery is something else... Perhaps it is time I take a look at what my lord is up to in Mid Ocean._ She quirked an eyebrow as she reached the Lynx and looked up at it.

_After my ship is fixed, of course._


	8. Chapter 8: Band Reunion

"Where do they all _get_ these machines?" Ramirez ground out between clenched teeth.

He kicked in his thrusters, jinking Corvus aside just as a spiked ball the size of his entire Trotmobile slammed into the ground where it had stood a moment before. Ramirez backpedaled his Trot quickly as the spiked ball retracted back into the arm of the bandit Trotmobile. It towered over his own, being twice as tall and colored green and steel; it possessed a spiked ball and a large club as it's arm frames, and the three lights positioned above a jutting steel jaw had earned the machine it's nickname - Triclops.

Ramirez could see the bandit piloting the Triclops grinning evilly in an open cockpit in the lower half of the Trotmobile as he brought it lumbering after him. Off to the side, Vanilla's Earl Grey II had already finished off the Triclops it had been facing and was watching the confrontation. He hadn't been happy when Ramirez had told him that he wanted to face one on his own, but had reluctantly agreed. _Fighting in this world seems to require Trotmobiles, and I'll learn how to fight with them without someone holding my hand._

He kicked in his thrusters again as he charged straight at the Triclops. The bandit pilot's eyes went wide with surprise, and Ramirez tried to jink around the massive Trot to get to it's rear - but instead rammed straight into it. He tried to recover Corvus in time, but swore when the giant club swung down and smashed into it before he could.

Ramirez shook his head, dizzied from the impact, then quickly backed his Trotmobile off again. _These controls are so _slow! _I can't react fast enough!_ Fighting was much easier when he had his sword in hand, or when he was calling on the Moons to cast magic. Controlling this lumbering piece of iron was something else entirely.

He glared at the Triclops through some strands of hair thrown forward over his face, breathing hard; he rolled his fingers off of the control sticks, then gripped them tighter, sparing a quick glance aside at the sword on Corvus' right arm. His eyes slid shut. _I trained until my body and mind were one, my sword an extension of myself._ He opened his eyes, moving a control and letting Corvus' sword arm rise; he felt his awareness spread to take in the mass of the Trotmobile below and around him. _A Trotmobile is a vehicle. Corvus is a weapon._

One more breath. Corvus thrusted forward, speeding under the spiked ball ready to fire. Two slashes, forward and back. Dodge to the side as the club smashed through the air. Slash, slash, slash to the back. Dodge as the Triclops turned to face him. Slash, slash, and _slash!_ The Triclops' torso exploded upward from it's lower half briefly, then smashed down to wrack the entire Trot with an explosion. The bandit hit the ground rolling, and Corvus thrusted forward with sword arm extended--

"Ramirez!" "Stop!"

Ramirez blinked, brought out of the exalted state he'd been in. The bandit let out a cry of terror as the Trotmobile's sword barely missed him, and ran for the nearest woods. The Silvite watched him go as his mind fully returned to himself. He turned his head and saw the Earl Grey standing nearby, Vanilla and Connie staring at him.

For a moment, he felt anger surge. _The pirate got away! They cost me my kill!_ Then he remembered exactly where he was, noted the strange clothing the two wore, saw the fear in Connie's eyes--

Ramirez looked down, unable to meet her gaze. For the first time in many years he felt... ashamed.

"I... I'm sorry... I got caught up..."

He looked back up, saw Vanilla watching him doubtfully. In Connie's eyes... concern. "Are you okay?" she asked.

A stirring at the corners of his mouth. A smile? "I'll be fine," he replied.

"Okay..." She smiled at him. "Come on. Let's head into the city."

--

Vanilla looked around as he walked the Earl Grey II through the gate into Happy Garland. _Woah..._ The street itself was a broad avenue with wide flagstone sidewalks on either side. In the distance, he could make out a cluster of buildings behind a fence, plumes of smoke rising from the stacks on top of them. Off to the left was the massive shape of what looked like a colosseum with bright lights shining up from the inside of it into the evening sky. Dense blocks of stone and brick buildings were visible from their vantage point, and it was obvious they stretched much further.

"This is Happy Garland, the largest city in the country," Connie said, smiling. "We're finally here!" She turned and spoke to both he and Ramirez, pointing into the city. "Park there, by the Lobster Inn."

Ramirez was just as astonished as Vanilla as the two Trotmobiles walked into the city. The streets were filled with auto and Trotmobiles, as well as trucks with fabric shielding their cargo from the elements. There were metal strips running down the center of the street, as well as pairs of wooden poles stretched across the street from each other and connected by a wire elevated above the level of traffic. He puzzled at that, until he saw a lozenge-shaped vehicle run along the metal strips, and used a metal apparatus on top of it to make contact with the wires overhead that, from the occasional sparks that were emitted, transferred electricity to power it. "That's a trolley," Connie replied when he asked.

_So they _have_ harnessed electricity, even without a Yellow Moon._ Above sections where streets met strange metal devices hung from other wires; they had three lights facing in all four directions, colored red, yellow and green. The vehicles stopped whenever the light facing them was red, but continued on their way when it was green or yellow. _Ah! They use those to direct traffic, like those men in the uniforms back in Nefroburg._

Ramirez parked beside the Earl Grey II in a space set just past the sidewalk. After they descended, Connie said, "The others should be inside. C'mon, this way." She hurried around a stone staircase topped with a fancily-wrought iron railing that led to more buildings further back from the street. He and Vanilla followed along and found her waiting at the double doors to a building that held two electric lights on either side of the doorway and held a red sign that read 'Hotel & Bar'. As they approached, she turned to face them. "Welcome to the Lobster Inn." She smiled and continued mock-formally, "Shall we?" They all went inside.

_Some things don't change, wherever you go,_ ran through Ramirez's mind as he looked around at the interior. There were sets of tables and chairs around the room, the tables draped with cloths and a candelabra set in the center. Over to the side was a bar with two men standing behind it, while in the back was a raised wooden stage with instruments set up on it. A woman with blonde hair that splayed out along it's bottom edge in a low-cut purple dress with red belt looked over as they came in. "Hey guys, look," she said, her voice sultry sounding.

Two others looked over, teenagers around Connie and Vanilla's ages. One was heavyset with his black hair in an odd hairstyle, both sides of his head shaved and the hair in the middle slicked upward with it low in the back and projecting upward towards the front. He wore a yellow flannel shirt and brown pants. The other was shorter, with a brown workman's hat worn backwards, glasses, a green flannel jacket and brown pants. "Hey!" the shorter one in green exlaimed. "Connie, you're alright. Thank goodness," the heavyset one in yellow said, his tone relieved.

"Sorry for making you guys worry," Connie replied, her tone abashed, as the three of them walked over to the stage.

"Wasn't there some kind of train accident?" the heavyset one asked. "How'd you get here?"

Connie gestured to Vanilla and Ramirez, saying, "Vanilla, Ramirez and I crossed the Sabbia Desert in their Trotmobiles." At their confused looks at Ramirez, "Vanilla met Ramirez at Vision Ranch."

A quick round of introductions followed; the woman in purple was named Savory, the heavyset one in yellow was Marjoram, and the short one in green was Basil. Ramirez frowned as he tried to get the names and appearances straight.

Before long, though, Basil turned to look at Vanilla and Ramirez, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "You crossed the Sabbia Desert? Are you serious!?"

"I was just trying to help," Vanilla replied. Behind him, Ramirez folded his arms and remained silent.

"There's no need to be modest," Marjoram said. "Connie wouldn't be here without you two."

Connie had been looking around. "Huh? Where's Fennel?"

Savory, Marjoram and Basil exchanged looks. "Uh..." "Well..." "Er..." They hemmed and hawed, looking uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?" Connie asked, looking around at the three of them.

"Fennel's gone," Marjoram replied reluctantly. "He... doesn't really want to play in the band anymore."

"What!?" Connie's eyes went wide with surprise.

"He's been acting up for a while," Basil chimed in, "and when you left--"

"This is all because I went to Nefroburg on my own," Connie half-moaned, looking miserable. She suddenly straightened and nodded firmly. "I'll go talk to him."

Marjoram shook his head. "It won't do much good... We've already tried."

"But... I should apologize, and--"

"Well, he's at the Station Hotel if you really want to," Marjoram said.

"Then I'll be back later," Connie said decisively, nodding. She turned and ran out the doors of the Lobster Inn, the eyes of her bandmates, Vanilla and Ramirez following her.

"Vanilla..." Ramirez and Vanilla turned to watch Savory approach the edge of the stage. "I know we've asked a lot of you, but... Could you keep an eye on Connie?" she asked. "She tends to take things personally."

"I'm concerned too," Vanilla replied, nodding. "Don't worry, I'll help."

"Thanks so much," Savory said. "Take good care of her, okay?"

"Fennel's at the Station Hotel," Marjoram added, "probably in the restaurant. I'll mark it on your map. Let me know if you get lost."

Vanilla hurried out. Ramirez started to follow him, but was stopped when Savory asked, "Ramirez, right? How did you get end up traveling with Connie and Vanilla?"

He paused, watching the doors shut behind Vanilla, then turned and looked at Savory. She was smiling in a friendly enough way, and was a little older than her bandmates, closer to his own age. She had a blue eyes and wore a small pink scarf around her neck, which served to accentuate the low cut of her dress.

Ramirez suppressed a surge of annoyance; it was understandable that she'd be curious about a stranger showing up with two of her friends. "Well, I had just crossed Lake Luminoso when I met Vanilla, who was on his way to see Dr. Nutmeg, and..." He found himself relating the story to her - carefully edited - as Marjoram and Basil set up the band's instruments on the stage.

Savory listened attentively, smiling. After he recounted his story up to the point that he agreed to travel with them to Happy Garland, she tilted her head to the side slightly, considering him. After a bit, she said, "You know, I think I'd like to hear about your trip. ...Maybe over dinner...?"

Ramirez eyed her as he mulled it over. Eventually, he nodded slowly. "Alright, I don't have any plans."

"We have some time before the concert starts," she replied, smiling slightly. "Why don't we go to the Riverside Hotel Restaurant?"

"...Alright."

They left the Lobster Inn and headed through the city in his Trotmobile to the Riverside Hotel, across the street from it's perennial rival, the Station Hotel.

"Ah, welcome," a waiter in a suit with a piece of cloth hanging over his forearm said in greeting as the two of them walked into the open-air restuarant facing the Shrike River. "Madame Savory, how very nice to see you again. I see you have brought a friend. Greetings, monsieur. I have a table ready right over here. Right this way, please."

After they had been seated, they looked at a menu the waiter held out for them. "I will have this," Savory said, pointing at the menu. "With white sauce and vinaigrette."

"Excellent choice, madame," the waiter said, and turned to Ramirez. "And, for the gentleman?"

"I'll have the filet mignon with truffle sauce," he replied after some thought.

"Very good, sir," the waiter replied, bowing slightly.

"So, do tell..." Savory began as the waiter walked away. "How was the desert? I've never been there myself, but I hear it's a pretty rough place."

Ramirez took a sip of the wine in front of him as he thought it over, then replied, "It's a barren wasteland swarming with thieves. The caravan we were guarding was attacked constantly."

"Oh my, that does sound dangerous," Savory said, eyes widened slightly. She smiled as she continued, "I'm glad you're okay. How can they expect decent people to travel without the train, anyway?"

The waiter soon returned with their orders, and the next several minutes were taken up with the sounds of chewing and cutlery. After Ramirez wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin, Savory asked, "Well? How was the food?"

"Delicious," he replied honestly.

"I'm glad you liked it," she replied, smiling. "We should probably get back... The concert will be starting soon." She smiled as they stood from the table, resting a hand on his arm briefly. "This was a lot of fun. Thanks."

Much to his surprise, he realized as they headed back out to his Trotmobile that he'd had a good time as well. The food truly had been excellent, and Savory was good company. She had neither the infuriating greed and snobbiness of Upper City Valuans, nor the pathetic hopelessness of the residents of the Lower City.

When they got back to the Lobster Inn, they found that Connie and Vanilla had returned before them after unsuccessfully trying to get Fennel to rejoin the band. "So who's going to play guitar?" Savory asked.

"I could try," Connie replied.

"Okay, let's start rehearsal then," Marjoram said.

"Wait..." Connie said suddenly. The rest of the band looked at her, confused. "I think Vanilla should try playing with us today," she continued, gesturing to him.

"Whaa!?" Basil exclaimed.

Vanilla rubbed the back of his head. "I'll do it, if you think it will help."

"Sure it will," Marjoram said soothingly. "Don't be so nervous."

"Okay," Savory said, stepping up onto the stage, an edge of urgency in her voice. "Let's start rehearsal."

--

_...Let go of all your troubles_

_Be free of your mind and let it go._

_It's funny how things turn around_

_Just by singing out loud."_

Ramirez clapped with the rest of the crowd among the tables as they whistled and applauded when the last notes of the song faded. He got to his feet and approached the stage as the audience started to disperse, chatting excitedly over the performance.

"Whew... I'm glad everything went so well," Basil was saying as he got nearby. He suddenly glanced aside and did a double-take at Vanilla. He suddenly pointed and said, "Huh? ...That pendant is--"

"Huh?" Marjoram also looked over, then started in surprise as he saw it.

"It can't be him," Connie said. "He doesn't remember the pendant at all!"

"Oh yeah," Marjoram said, nodding. "Your memory..."

"But that's definitely Mallow's pendant," Basil insisted. "Maybe this guy knows him?"

"Why don't we discuss this some other time?" Savory cut in, sounding uncomfortable.

"Yeah," Marjoram agreed, "after all, we just had a rocking concert." He turned to Basil and continued, "Your bass was still a little off-tune though, Basil."

"You could tell!?" Basil thought for a second. "I'll ask Dandelion to check it out tomorrow. Any of you guys want to come?"

"I have to book our next gig," Marjoram said, bringing a hand to his chin as he began thinking it over.

"Sorry, I got a previous engagement," Savory said.

"...Connie?" Basil asked.

"I'm sorry, Basil," she replied, bringing her hands up. "I still need to brush up on guitar."

"What about you?" Basil asked as he turned to face Vanilla.

There was a short pause, then Marjoram chimed in, "Someone needs to go--there's been a lot of robberies near Dandelion's lately. Basil's Trotmobile hasn't worked right since Nefroburg. Could you give him a lift?"

As Vanilla started to open his mouth, Ramirez cut him off. "I'll take him there," he said. The Globetrotters looked over as Ramirez stepped up onto the stage.

"You will?" Marjoram said in surprise, then nodded. "Thanks a lot."

"Aww! I could have handled it myself, y'know!" Basil said irritably.

"It's not worth taking chances, Basil," Savory said.

Basil looked at Savory and immediately stopped grumbling. Ramirez hid a smirk as he saw the look in the young bassist's eyes. _If that isn't a serious crush, I've never seen one. I should know after seeing Belleza around Lord Galcian..._

He watched as the Garland Globetrotters, now including Vanilla, headed upstairs to their rooms. _Dandelion... Perhaps I'll learn something when I go there with Basil tomorrow._


	9. Chapter 9: New Arrivals

Ramirez walked down the stairs of the Lobster Inn the next morning, pulling an arm through the sleeve of his suit jacket and buttoning it as he reached the main floor. Savory was sitting at a table, the only one sitting in the restaurant at this morning hour. "Good morning," she said when she saw him, smiling. "Basil's waiting at your Trotmobile. Watch out for bandits, okay?"

He shook his head slightly. "Is there anywhere in this country where there _aren't_ bandits?"

She chuckled and spread her hands. "See you later. Bye now..."

Ramirez walked out to the parking lot to find Basil already sitting in Corvus. He made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat, annoyed at the presumption. He fought it down as he saw Basil smiling guilelessly down at him, and climbed into the pilot's seat.

"Alright, off we go!" Basil said excitedly.

Corvus made its way down the street the Lobster Inn was on, passing a multitude of stores where you could buy just about anything, as well as the local newspaper, the Urban Times, the Stock Exchange - which made him remember his stop at the Nefro Theater - and a massive church. They turned right and headed towards the appropriate gate, passing the large Memorial Park that was dominated by a practically sky scraping squared stone column in the center of its plaza.

As they passed through the city gate, Ramirez read the sign that declared that it led to the Cuckoo Forest and the town of Eurydika. But as they traveled up a dusty road, he noticed that while the higher slopes of the surrounding mountains were thick with trees, it was bare towards ground level. "Oh yeah," Basil said when he mentioned it. "They've got Trotmobiles with saws and axes to cut down trees and stuff."

_That explains it,_ he thought. It was strange, seeing so many trees from a Valuan standpoint. Valua was always dark, so plant life was scarce, but the Valuan continent was rich with metals and minerals. That was why they mostly used steel in their building construction and shipbuilding, as opposed to Ixa'taka, which had the Green Moon constantly regrowing their endless forests. _But they don't have a Green Moon here. If they keep cutting their trees down, eventually this land might look like Valua._

The bandits along the way to Dandelion's also showed another reason why trees were scarce closer to the road - most of them in the Cuckoo Forest used Trotmobiles that carried bunches of logs with their ends sharpened to points, and used them as ammunition to fire at travelers. _How wasteful,_ ran through Ramirez's mind as he dodged a volley of logs and thrusted in, picking up one of the bandit Trots and throwing it into the canyon wall.

When they reached Dandelion Instruments, the workshop he used, Basil had climbed out of Corvus as soon as it was stopped and ran for the front door of the three story log cabin, shouting, "Dandelion!" Ramirez watched him disappear into the building. _He acts like a child,_ he thought distastefully. He started walking to the cabin more leisurely himself, but the call of a some nearby bird forced itself on his attention, as it was repeated over and over and _over..._ Ramirez was practically growling by the time he walked into the building and finally escaped the infernal racket. He had been tempted to get back into Corvus and launch a few cannon shells into the surrounding trees.

"It's been a while, Basil," a man of around Ramirez's own age was saying to the Globetrotter as he walked over. He was tall, tall enough to rival Lord Galcian in height, but was built along different lines. He was trim and lacked the sheer muscular bulk of the Lord Admiral of the Valuan Armada. He had long blonde hair with a headband to hold it away from his face, and wore a blue shirt, brown pants and brown shoes with a long leather apron over them. "I'm glad you're doing well," he finished in friendly tones. Ramirez guessed that this was Dandelion.

"Yeah, you too!" Basil burbled.

Dandelion noticed Ramirez and turned to him, asking, "...And this is?"

"This is Ramirez, he gave me a lift here," Basil answered. "He's a friend of Vanilla, our newest member. He helped Connie cross the Sabbia Desert!"

"I see," Dandelion said, impressed. "Well, my name is Dandelion, and as you can see, I make instruments here." He frowned slightly. "Speaking of Connie, how is she doing?"

Ramirez considered the question, and decided to try and fish for information. "She seems depressed," he said, watching the craftsman.

"It happens to the best of us, sometimes," Dandelion replied, a slight sigh in his voice.

"Oh yeah--Dandelion, can you take a look at my bass?" Basil asked.

Dandelion turned and looked at the tall instrument leaning against one of his worktables, leaning forward to get a closer look and bringing a finger up to his chin. "Hrmm... The neck looks a little bent."

"Yeah, that happened when the Killer Elephants attacked everyone," Basil said.

Dandelion straightened abruptly and looked at Basil, eyes wide. "They attacked you!? Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, thanks to Vanilla," Basil replied.

"Oh really? In that case, I owe him my thanks," Dandelion said, glancing over at Ramirez briefly. "Basil, can you grab another neck from upstairs?"

"Sure!" Basil said, and ran up the stairs enthusiastically.

Dandelion turned to Ramirez as Basil left. "I don't hear much about events in town, since I live so far away," he said. "Where are you from, anyway? How'd you end up traveling with Connie?"

With an inward sigh, Ramirez recounted his story again, omitting the parts about his being from Valua, instead just sticking with 'From across Lake Luminoso'.

"...I see," Dandelion said as he finished. "What are things like where you come from?"

"Very primitive," Ramirez replied. "I came from Meme Village. I hadn't even heard of Trotmobiles until I crossed the lake." The second and third parts of that were true, while the first...

"Really?" Dandelion smiled. "Sounds like you've picked up the basics of them quick enough." He reached into his apron and pulled out an envelope and a sheet of paper. "By the way, would you give these to Connie? I'd ask Basil, but he'd probably forget about it. Please make sure she gets them."

"Got it!" Basil said as he came running back down the stairs, his arms full of bass necks.

"You didn't have to bring my whole stock," Dandelion said, amused. "Here, this one should do. Just give me a minute." He looked at Ramirez. "Why don't you take a look around? This might be a while."

Ramirez paced around the first floor a bit, but Dandelion was busy replacing the neck on Basil's bass, and Basil himself was watching with interest. Eventually, he made his way upstairs and found a teenager up there; by the heavy leather belt around his waist, he also worked there. "We haven't had visitors in a long time," he commented as Ramirez reached the top of the stairs. "I'm Tonio, the assistant here. Feel free to ask me if you have any questions about the workshop.

Ramirez took advantage of the opportunity to ask about Dandelion, and discovered that he was considered the greatest craftsman in the country, though he was a musician until a few years ago when he opened his shop, which specialized in string instruments - the violin, especially. It was apparently Dandelion's personal favorite. Tonio was acting as an apprentice, pretty much, studying under Dandelion to perfect his own craftsmanship.

He went back downstairs to find Dandelion handing the completed bass to Basil, who said, "Thanks, Dandelion."

"Tell everyone I said hi. Oh, and give Connie a hard time for not visiting!" Dandelion said, mock serious.

"Sure thing," Basil said, then tried to sound nonchalant as he asked, "Oh, Dandelion, you wouldn't ever maybe come back to the band, would you?"

"Oh come on--you guys are the Globetrotters now," Dandelion replied, smiling. "The fans want to see you, not some old has-been."

"Oh..." Basil's shoulders slumped.

"Have a little confidence," Dandelion said. "Go out there and enjoy yourself."

Basil perked up. "Yeah, I guess you're right!"

"Take care now," Dandelion said as he turned to Ramirez. "Hey, and you remember to look after Connie for me, alright?"

"I'm going to load the bass in your Trotmobile," Basil said to Ramirez, and hurried out the door.

Ramirez and Dandelion watched Basil hurry out the door, then the latter sighed and smiled wryly. "Crafting instruments is a lot more relaxing than performing music. This job definitely fits me best."

"Dandelion," Ramirez began slowly. "How do you know Connie and the others?"

"When we were young, Dr. Nutmeg took my brother and I in and introduced us to many important people," Dandelion replied. "That's how we met Connie and her mother. Dr. Nutmeg taught me a lot, and Rosemary, Connie's mother, taught me pretty much everything, starting with how to read music. Rosemary might as well be the mother of the Globetrotters. Everyone respects her, even Fennel."

He smiled, and continued, "And Connie's a really nice girl. She was good friends with my younger brother Chicory. Even after we moved to Happy Garland, she would visit us by train." The smile slowly faded. "Everyone in the Globetrotters liked Chicory. He was especially fond of Connie and Rosemary..."

Dandelion turned his head and looked out a window, appearing lost in thought. Ramirez watched him a bit, but when he was about to ask another question, Dandelion suddenly smiled and looked back at him. "Well, I'd better get back to work here. Maybe I'll see you around some time."

Ramirez left the workshop, mulling over what he'd learned. _I get the feeling something has happened with Chicory. But what?_ Basil was standing near Corvus, having stowed his bass away. He sighed as Ramirez approached, and said, "I wish Dandelion would rejoin the band... Oh well, let's head back." The two of them climbed into the cockpit and started back down the road to Happy Garland.

--

"Thanks for the assist," Basil said after Ramirez pulled into parking lot of the Lobster Inn. "You're a decent guy." He waved and said, "Laterz," running off into the building.

_What a strange kid,_ ran through Ramirez's mind as he watched him disappear around the stone staircase. He leaned back against his seat and considered his options. _I don't want to just sit around this Inn and watch them perform. That's not why Lord Galcian sent me here._ _Hmm... Perhaps I'll visit the arena. I haven't gotten a good look at these Trotmobile gladiators yet._

He steered Corvus back into traffic and made his way to the Garland Arena. It was by far the largest building in the city, so he was able to keep an eye on it by watching it rear above the levels of smaller buildings and use it as a guiding point. When he reached Trotmobile access door, he passed through and blinked as he walked his Trot up the concrete ramp. He could see the lobby of the Arena over a wrought-iron fence, and took in the crowds wandering around the marble floors with red carpets laid down in paths, stairs with gilded railings, and tapestries and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling high - _very_ high - overhead. The area where the gladiators gathered, when he parked Corvus there, was more strictly functional in look, with bare concrete floors and a wrought iron railing looking down on the lobby below.

"Hey buddy, you can't park there," a mechanic said as Ramirez climbed out. "This area's fer gladiators only."

"I am... here to be in a Trotmobile battle," he replied. He'd meant the words only as an excuse to stay, but as soon as they left his mouth Ramirez's eyes gleamed. _Hmm... What better way to hone my Tromobile fighting skills than to test them in battle?_

"Oh," the mechanic said, nodding. "Well, it doesn't look like you got a license, so you better head down to reception and get one. Card's pretty full of fighters already, but they're always lookin' fer new faces to throw in there."

Ramirez nodded and headed down the red-carpeted stairs to the lobby. The reception desk was easy to spot, taking up a large portion of one wall with a black metal plaque on it with gilded letters reading 'Information Office'. "Welcome to the Happy Garland Arena," the female receptionist said after he walked over. She wore a white shirt, red bow tie and black pants with short brown hair. To Ramirez, it was a rather mannish-style. _The only other women I've seen wear pants are Belleza and Fina, and they both try to look feminine in other ways. If not for her... attributes, I could mistake her for a man._

The receptionist listened carefully to his problem, then nodded. "Oh, sure, we could get you a license. Things have been slow before evening hours, anyway. The audience likes to have a bit of variety in gladiators from time to time." She gave him a form to fill out, which fortunately didn't ask for very specific information, and he handed it back after he'd finished. The receptionist turned to a typewriter and clicked and clacked away at it for a bit, then turned and handed him in cardboard card. It was dominated by a logo of a wooden shield with an orange line running through it near the top, the interior dominated by a black D. "Here you are, sir. A Rank D license. You can now battle at any arena in the country."

"How do I rise in rank?" Ramirez asked as he eyed the license.

"I'll take this one," said a man standing nearby, wearing an outfit similar to that of the receptionist. "I am Douglas, the expounder of this arena! That's right! I said 'expounder'!"

Ramirez glanced over at the receptionist, who was rolling her eyes. _Alright, it's not just me then,_ he thought.

"Anyway," Douglas continued, "when you win a battle in the arena, you earn Victory Medals. You can turn them in for new frames for your Trotmobile, but we'll keep a count of how many you've earned over your career. Once you reach a certain number of medals, you advance to the next rank. From strongest to weakest, the ranks are S, A, B, C and D. You can only battle those who have the same rank, or lower, as your own. Anything else?"

"I would like to begin battling."

Ramirez soon discovered that there was only one other Rank D gladiator at the Happy Garland Arena, a former lumberjack named Sampson who was slightly taller than him, thickly muscled and wore a green shirt with 'Power' written on the front in white letters. Before long, he had turned in some UR to fight the battle and piloted Corvus onto a large freight elevator similar to ones he'd seen in Valua. The elevator rose and came level with the arena floor, where he saw Sampson's green Trotmobile 'Giant Sam' finish ascending opposite him. Spectators filled the stands and cheered and yelled for both gladiators as some curious droning pipes played a flourish.

After the music faded, there was the sound of a gunshot and Sampson's Giant Sam started rolling towards him on its caterpillar treads, its buzzsaw arm frame spinning. Ramirez watched him approach cautiously, then thrusted forward with his sword poised - only to find the Giant Sam's other arm thrusting forward, landing a punch with a **CLANG** that rattled his bones.

He slashed forward and backhand, then quickly thrusted backward away from another punch. Strangely, Sampson wasn't making use of his buzzsaw. _Perhaps this is why he is D Rank._ Ramirez dodged quickly around as his opponent doggedly rolled after him slowly on his caterpillar frame. He began thrusting in, landing a couple of slashes, then dodging back before the Giant Sam could respond.

Before long, smoke poured out of Sampson's Trotmobile and it ground to a halt. Cheers erupted from the crowd, and Ramirez let them wash over him as he piloted Corvus back to the elevator, sword arm raised in triumph and catching the light of the afternoon sun.

"Man yer strong!" Sampson later commented in the battler's lounge after he'd climbed down from his Trotmobile. Ramirez nodded silently to him, then returned to the reception desk where he was handed two small gilded medals with red and white ribbons attached. He looked at the two Victory Medals sitting in his hand. _Hmph, not much of an award._ His hand closed around them, and he looked up at the gladiators above. _But I can get more._

--

Vanilla slid his harmonica back into his jeans pocket, smiling and waving to the crowd as the afternoon concert wrapped up. Connie smiled at him when he looked over at her. "I love the feeling I get after a concert," she said.

Vanilla smiled back. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

It took a while before enough of the crowd left to see a familiar figure with slicked hair, sunglasses, a blue shirt with black stripes, black pants and black boots sitting at one of the tables, arms folded.

"Fennel!" Connie exclaimed, surprised to see him there.

Vanilla rubbed the back of his head. "Why are you here?" he asked, confused. "I thought you wanted to pursue your own music."

Fennel slowly stood, resting one hand on his hip. "That's not why I'm here. Have you guys heard about Vision Ranch?"

The Garland Globetrotters exchanged looks; it was obvious none of them knew what he was talking about.

"What's going on?" Marjoram asked.

"They're sayin' some weird creatures have shown up there, and they're tearing the place apart."

Connie gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. "Dr. Nutmeg!"

Fennel brought a hand up. "He was still okay, last I heard. But a Civilian Army has formed to fight them, and we're meeting at Wagtail Canyon."

"If there's trouble then we should go and help," Marjoram said, then brought a hand to his chin. "I'm going to have to cancel our next gig in Neuhafen, though."

"You're right," Connie said, nodding to Marjoram. "They need our help. Our tour can wait."

"Someone should tell Dandelion," Savory said, sounding troubled. "I'll go tell him and catch up with the rest of you later."

"I could go with you," Basil chimed in.

Savory smiled. "I'll be fine Basil," she said, nodding to him.

Basil rubbed the back of his head. "Well, okay. If you're sure," he said, sounding both dubious and disappointed. Savory nodded to everyone, then hurried out of the Lobster Inn.

Connie suddenly turned to Vanilla. "What are you going to do?"

"Of course I'll come," he replied, nodding. "It really sounds like they need help."

"Thank you!" Connie said, clasping her hands together briefly.

"What about Ramirez, though?" Vanilla asked. "He hasn't come back yet."

"We can't go searching through all of Happy Garland for him," Marjoram pointed out reasonably. "Besides, we'll leave a message for him at the bar."

"Yeah, I guess so," Vanilla said, frowning slightly.

"Come on! Let's go!" Basil said, and ran out the doors alongside Fennel, who walked out more sedately. Marjoram walked over to the bar, while Connie waited near Vanilla since she didn't have a Trotmobile of her own.

Vanilla headed for the doors leading outside. _I hope Ramirez will be okay._

--

Galcian stood at the window of his bridge aboard the Serpent, his black and gold cloak wrapped around himself as he stared out at the vortex. Behind him, a Valuan soldier approached with a familiar woman just behind him, her dark red hair cascading down past her shoulders.

"Lord Galcian," the soldier began, "I present to you your Fourth Admiral, Belleza."

"...Very good. You may leave," Galcian said, never turning his head.

The soldier saluted. "As you wish..." He turned smartly and marched away, leaving Belleza to fold her arms and watch the Supreme Commander of the Valuan Armada. She didn't dare to speak first; her arrival in the Lynx had been met with suspicion, and the escort to the edge of the vortex had seemed grudging.

Galcian let the silence drag on a bit longer, than finally spoke. "This area is not your responsibility, Belleza. I have taken personal command of the Mid Ocean Fleet since I exiled Alfonso to Ixa'taka."

Belleza closed her eyes and bowed her head. "I realize that, my lord." She decided not to mention the latest news coming out of Ixa'taka. _So Vyse actually sailed across South Ocean?_ She smiled briefly. _He _is _turning into quite a problem for poor De Loco and Alfonso._ "As commander of the Armada's Intelligence branch, I felt it necessary to discover the reason such a large force is deployed in this area."

Galcian closed his eyes and lowered his head in thought, then turned halfway to look at Belleza. "As it happens, it is... fortuitous that you have arrived."

Belleza blinked and raised her head again, looking at him in puzzlement. "My lord?" she asked.

A small smile came to Galcian's face. "This vortex is no ordinary discovery, Admiral Belleza. It is, in fact, a doorway to another land."

Belleza frowned slightly. "A doorway?"

Galcian turned to look out the window at the vortex again. "It is an unknown land, lying under none of the Six Moons." He paused to let her absorb that statement a moment, then continued. "I sent Admiral Ramirez through the vortex some time ago to establish an outpost... and gather intelligence on the new land."

Belleza felt a surge of annoyance at that. It was, after all, _her_ specialty. "Surely my lord knows that such a special operation could have been under my supervision."

"Indeed," Galcian replied. "...Ramirez has fallen out of contact. He took it upon himself to venture deeper into the new land some time ago and hasn't been heard from since." He turned halfway to look at Belleza again, his expression unreadable. "I want you to pass through the vortex and reestablish contact with him."

Belleza blinked, then stepped slowly forward to the window and stared out at the vortex. _Another land? Under _none _of the Moons?_ The thought was disquieting... yet also intriguing. "...I see," she finally replied.

Galcian looked back at the vortex. "Once you have reestablished contact, you are to work with him to learn all you can of the new land. He has been there for some time, so he should have some idea already of its ways. You, however, shall bring your experience as a guiding hand. While Ramirez is capable, he lacks your special talents."

A smile crossed Belleza's face. "I understand, Lord Galcian. I shall not fail you." Galcian glanced sidelong at her for a moment, a smirk briefly appearing on his face. It suddenly disappeared as a flash of light drew his attention through the window again.

As Galcian and Belleza watched several shells landed among the Valuan ships guarding the vortex, sending them turning in several directions to discover where they were coming from. Behind them, the same soldier came running up. "Lord Galcian!" he exclaimed. "The fleet is under attack!"

"By whom?" Galcian asked, his voice cold. His tone seemed to add, _Whoever it is will pay dearly._

Belleza suddenly pointed. "There!" Galcian looked forward in time to see a small red ship sail up over a Spellship, then back down and arrowed in straight for the vortex, Valuan shells exploding around it. It had a steel grill along the bottom portion of its prow, with several cannons visible, along with black sails with white patterns along its top and sides. They had barely enough time to take in the details before it disappeared through the vortex.

Galcian's eyes narrowed as he watched the vortex, then he looked at Belleza. "Prepare to pass through the vortex. The need to reestablish contact with Admiral Ramirez has just become more urgent." He turned away from her and stalked off across the bridge.

--

Gilder, known as the Unfettered, half smiled as he leaned an arm on the wheel of the Claudia. Behind him, his crew were still recovering from the disorienting effect the... _I guess you could call it a vortex,_ ran through his mind.

"Ha, that was fun," Gilder said as he turned the Claudia sharply and sent it heeling sharply away from the vortex, looking down at the large lake and mountains below. He let out a low whistle. "I knew the Valuans must have been hiding something important, but this is really something."

Gilder had heard about the Valuan presence around a point of light on Sailor's Island when he'd stopped by Polly's place for a bite to eat. More importantly, he'd heard about ships that went into it and didn't come out for quite a while. Adding it all together, Gilder still hadn't been exactly been sure what it all meant, but he was always ready to try something new.

A grin suddenly came to his ruggedly handsome face. "I'd like to see Clara try and follow us here," he said, then peered out through the window.

"Alright boys, let's go see what we've gotten ourselves into here."


	10. Chapter 10: New Faces

Ramirez ascended the last set of stairs from the lobby to the battler's lounge, the latest pair of Victory Medals in his hand. He shoved them into his jacket pocket, where they jingled against the others he had gotten in the other matches he'd defeated Sampson in. _Two more, and I achieve C Rank._ Then he'd be able to fight Sampson _and_ this arena's C Ranker, Sudou...

He narrowed his eyes as he turned his head, his attention brought over to a figure standing at the far edge of the battler's lounger, looking down on the lobby below. Ramirez watched the figure a moment, then began to walk over. He passed the other gladiators along the way, the C Ranker Sudou, who watched him pass by silently; Sampson, who grinned and flipped him a thumbs up; Genius, who was busy scribbling away in a notepad and examining his Trotmobile; and the mysterious Saffron, who wore a provocative purple outfit of lingerie, elbow-length gloves, fishnet stockings, high-heeled boots and a mask, and held a whip in her hand - she merely gave him a disdainful once over with her eyes.

Ramirez approached the man from behind as he looked down at the lobby, but he never turned to acknowledge his presence. He wore a white suit with dark grey button-down shirt, a red ruffled scarf, and a v-shaped mask with flared ends below his slicked back blonde hair. He watched him a moment before the man finally asked, "Did you want something with me?" in neutral tones.

"Nothing, no," Ramirez replied, eyeing the figure with interest. He knew who this man must be - he was known as Elder, the current champion of the Trotmobile arenas from winning the UTC, the Ultimate Trotmobile Championship. He'd held the title for a while now, and was rumored to be ruthless in battle.

Elder remained silent a while, still looking down at the lobby, one hand resting at his waist. "You... You're a Gladiator, aren't you?"

Ramirez inclined his head forward. "I'm Ramirez."

Elder once again fell silent, considering. Then, "Why do you ride Trotmobiles?"

Ramirez wondered briefly why he wasn't getting annoyed at this line of questioning. "I like them," he replied. "They're useful."

Elder gave a short chuckle, a cold sound devoid of any real humor. "I see," he said. "So, your Trotmobile will never betray you, will it?" Before Ramirez could begin to consider how to answer that question, Elder continued. "Whether the Trotmobile's a useful tool for everyday life, or a useless hunk of metal... That all depends on how you choose to use it."

He fell silent again. Then, "...I'll be waiting for the day you achieve S Rank."

Ramirez watched Elder, feeling a surge of respect. He realized why a moment later - the UTC champion reminded him of himself, and of Lord Galcian. _A formidable man,_ he thought, bowing his head briefly to Elder's back, then turning and walking back to Corvus.

--

The streets were less crowded as Ramirez piloted his Trotmobile back to the Lobster Inn due to the late hour. The electric streetlights were on, and the sky overhead was a starless black with the glare of Happy Garland drowning out the scatter of lights. He parked Corvus in the lot, then made his way inside wearily. The Trotmobile battling had been tiring yet... satisfying. _Of course, so is any sort of battle._ Fighting brought him outside of himself, into an exalted state where the power he wielded crushed his foes before him... and let him forget the past.

Dustin, the owner of the Lobster Inn, waved as he walked in. "Hey there, I have a message for you.

"It's from the Globetrotters," he clarified as he handed over a letter. Ramirez ripped the envelope open and read the letter, expressionless. Inside, he felt a sinking feeling. _Creatures attacking Vision Ranch..._ He knew from the travels he'd had through this country that its main problem was bandits, not hostile animals. _But Vision Ranch is right next to Lake Luminoso, and above Lake Luminoso..._

Ramirez slowly folded the letter again and slipped it back into the envelope before sliding it into his pocket. _Beasts must be bleeding through the vortex from Arcadia,_ he thought as he nodded his thanks to the owner. He pulled out the envelope and paper from Dandelion and handed them over, saying, "Give these to the Globetrotters when you next see them."

Ramirez tried to think about tactics that might be useful when he returned to the arena the next day, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the letter. He'd done his best to remain anonymous here, but if beasts not native to this land - this _world_ - were suddenly appearing...

_Nobody could have foreseen this happening,_ he thought. _Not even Lord Galcian considered the possibility. _As he removed his suit jacket, vest and shoes in preparation for going to sleep, he suddenly smiled. _There is one positive to this situation. Now we shall see how Trotmobiles fare against Arcadian beasts. That should help prove whether they'll be useful to the Armada._

--

Vanilla descended from the cockpit of the Earl Grey II and hopped down the last few feet, landing next to Connie. As he straightened, Connie was staring at the portion of Wagtail Canyon where the Civilian Army was mustering. "Oh my..."

Vanilla also found himself staring; crowding a large portion of the canyon just before it opened into the field of Vision Ranch was a great flock of sheep and a few other cattle, herded together by a young boy and a familiar pudgy man, as well as a familiar Trotmobile with one wing frame and a normal arm frame. Beyond them there were masses of mostly black and white Trotmobiles lined against the canyon walls, next to stalls selling various items with people wandering between them.

"Oh, hey there!" Willie had noticed the new arrivals and walked over. "Vanilla, right? We met when the Flap Flyer ran into your Trotmobile."

Vanilla shook his hand, then looked past him at the scene ahead of them. "What happened here?" he asked.

Willie turned to look at the sheep and sighed. "These crazy monsters started showing up a few days ago. One of 'em attacked me and my brother Otto and we managed to kill it, but more of them kept showing up. They started attacking our family's sheep and livestock in the field and the guys working on the railroad, until we couldn't set foot outside our house without getting attacked. We went to Nefroburg to ask for help, and..." He waved at the Trotmobiles and the people, which seemed to be answer enough. "My brother Otto and I are helping herd the sheep, but we'd sure like to be able to get back to our experiments."

"Don't worry," Vanilla replied, nodding to him. "We'll help clear out these monsters so your family can go home again."

"We'd all appreciate it," Willie said, nodding back.

Vanilla and the rest of the Garland Globetrotters, excluding Savory, headed over towards a group of blue-uniformed policemen standing near the black-and-white Trotmobiles. Fennel suddenly pointed at the man addressing the group, saying, "That's Commander Ferguson of the Civilian Army. He's also on the police force. Come on, let's go introduce ourselves."

As they approached, the policemen hurried off to their tasks and Vanilla got his first good look at Ferguson. He was an older man, looking to be in his late 30s, with a small moustache and strong features. He wore a typical policeman's uniform, except that his steel helmet had a small plume of red horsehair sticking out of the top, his tunic was a dark blue, and he wore gray elbow-length gloves and had grey pants.

Commander Ferguson noticed them approaching and nodded to them, one hand resting at his waist. "The Garland Globetrotters, I presume?" he asked, his accent cultured. "A pleasure to meet you all." He noticed Vanilla and looked at him, asking, "Who is this?"

"I'm Vanilla, nice to meet you," Vanilla replied, waving a hand briefly.

"Ah, I've heard rumors," Ferguson said. "You drove the Killer Elephants from Nefroburg and defeated Dudley! The Civilian Army needs more men like you." He smiled charmingly. "What do you say? Care to join?"

"Yes, sir!" Vanilla said, nodding.

"Excellent. I'll be counting on you." He turned to look at the rest of the Globetrotters. "I extend the same offer to all of you. The Civilian Army will need all of you if we are to emerge victorious over these foul creatures."

Marjoram and Basil were quick to volunteer, but Connie looked uncomfortable. "Um... I'd like to help out, but I don't have a Trotmobile..."

"That should be no trouble at all, Miss Coriander," Ferguson replied. "Not everyone in the Civilian Army shall be fighting in the frontline. Equally as important are the support staff needed to help maintain both the men and machines until we are ready to take to the field."

"Alright, I'll do my best," Connie said, nodding.

"Speaking of support staff, I've heard that you handle the scheduling and accounting of the band, Marjoram," Ferguson went on. "I could use a good man in charge of resources. The Army is running short of food, and we'll need someone to oversee supply transport."

Marjoram briefly looked surprised, then his face firmed and he nodded. "I'll do it, Commander."

"Excellent," Ferguson replied. "We should discuss the Army's immediate needs. If you'll excuse us..."

Vanilla walked away, looking around at all the Trotmobiles gathered in one place, then blinked as he saw a familiar face standing behind a table heaped with pots and plates. As he walked over, the older woman spotted him and said, "Hey, you. You seem to be doing well."

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Vanilla asked Miss Echinacea; the last time he'd seen her, she'd given him the idea to go confront the Boss of the Killer Elephants in their hideout.

"I couldn't just sit around with everyone here taking on those things out there. I wanted to help," she answered. Her eyes rose to look around at the masses of men and machines gathered around, and continued. "But... this is bigger than I could have imagined. It's a real war going on." She sighed, then got a gleam in her eyes. "But nevermind that. How far have you and Connie gone?"

"Um..." Vanilla floundered for an answer, taken aback. Eventually, he decided to play it safe. "We're in a band together," he said, nodding.

"If you ask me, I think she's got a thing for you. Nudge, nudge. Wink, wink." She chuckled a bit, then continued, "Best of luck to you. At any rate, stop by whenever you're hungry, and I'll sneak you a treat."

Vanilla waved his farewell, and executed his first military maneuver: he retreated quickly. He felt his face burning with embarassment as the words Miss Echinacea said ran through his mind. _I like Connie, yeah, and there's something about her..._ He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, shoulders hunched forward as he wandered around, lost in thought.

He was so distracted, it took a while for Marjoram to find him. "Oh, there you are," he said when he finally tracked him down. "Commander Ferguson would like you to help with acquisition. The roads are filled with bandits, so not just anyone can do it."

"Anything I can to help," Vanilla said, nodding.

"We need you to go to Skylark Farms, on the road between Happy Garland and Neuhafen. You'll transport wheat from there back to the camp here."

Vanilla blinked in surprise. _Across the Sabbia Desert again!?_ He rubbed the back of his head. "Alright, I'll do it." _If anything, it'll help distract me..._

--

Gilder and a good portion of the crew of the Claudia headed up the stairs of the Neuhafen Arena, ignoring the stares of the dockworkers and sailors that had watched as the pirate ship flew overhead and landed next to one of the docks in the harbor. The captain in his red duster had a grin on his face as he reached the balcony above a large door that was apparently for access by the weird walking vehicles he'd seen.

"This should be fun," he commented aloud as he walked into the arena, his crew at his heels. He'd made his rounds at Sailor's Island, Nasrad, Maramba and even a few trips to Valua itself - one of which had involved a hasty escape from Upper City after he had a fun time with a Valuan noble's daughter. But this place was brand new, and the scores of ships tied up at the docks he'd seen from overhead promised that it was able to entertain sailors. The building they were going into was the biggest one in town, and looked like it had promise.

The dull roar of the crowd inside the place made him want to rub his hands together. _Yeah, this is the sort of place I'm looking for._ It was a vast cavernous space inside, with a bar and a group of packed tables off to the right. The sailors gathered there were all burly guys with bandanas on their heads, white sleeveless shirts and blue denim pants - slightly different from the Arcadian sailors he knew, but not too far off.

Some of the sailors looked up in surprise as he walked among the tables over to the bar, blinking at his red duster and the sight of Willy with his leather helmet, goggles and small red bandana on his shoulder. Gilder reached the bar and leaned an elbow onto it as he squeezed between two sailors perched on stools. "Um... What'll you have?" the bartender asked, eyeing his outfit.

"What kind of loqua you got around here?" he asked, pitching his voice so that it carried over the noise.

The bartender frowned at the question. "Loqua? Never heard of that one. We have plenty of other spirits, though." He gestured to the shelves of glass bottles and piled barrels behind him.

Gilder's eyes lit as he took in the selection, and he pounded a fist down on the bar, laughing. The bartender jumped slightly, and the laborers on either side shot him curious looks. "Alright! I'll start with that one," Gilder started, pointing at the left bottle on the top shelf, "and work my way down from there!"

The bartender gaped at him, and the laborers at either side grinned. Gilder turned to look at the rest of the bar, feeling the weight of the gold in his pockets. "And a round for everyone!" A loud cheer echoed from the rafters.

--

"A Trotmobile battle and a cold one..." the refreshed sailor standing next to Gilder at the fence commented. "This is one fine day."

Gilder smiled and clinked his mug of beer against the sailor's, watching the two Trots battle in the arena just below. He winced slightly as one of them was picked up and thrown into the fence around the battle area, then cheered along with the rest of the sailors and laborers watching. "This isn't too bad," he shouted over the noise to his new friend - he'd made a whole bunch with that first round. _Much better than the executions the Valuans put on,_ he thought as he took another swig from his mug, eyes on the fight below.

"They're _real_ battles with lives hanging in the balance..." a laborer nearby said, his voice filled with passion. "That's why Trotmobile battles are so popular."

Gilder started to take a breath to shout an answer back, then let it out in a cheer as one of the Trots started spewing smoke and sagged to the ground. The other raised its arm frame in triumph for a bit before it exited the battle area. The sailor standing next to him smiled wryly as he handed some UR over to Gilder's outstretched hand. "Alright, alright, you were right about that one," he said, then grinned. "So how 'bout we get back to the pool table so I can win it back?"

Gilder mock-groaned and rolled his eyes. "You really know how to dampen a man's spirits, don't you?" He grinned back and walked back to the green-felt table, setting his mug down and picking up a cue. "Whose turn was it?" he asked as he chalked up the point of the stick. Billiards wasn't a game he was familiar with but was fun in its own way.

"Excuse me..." Gilder blinked and turned at the wheezy sounding voice, seeing a frail old man sitting in a red velvet upholstered wheelchair with a girl in a modest ankle-length gray dress at the handles behind it. A tall bald man in a dark suit stood behind the old man's at his right, while a shorter man with slicked blonde hair in a white suit stood to his left.

The old man looked up at him, his fingers - on which he wore several jeweled rings - steepled. "I am Don Puccini, the owner of this arena," he wheezed, his voice also hinting at some sort of accent. "Am I to understand that you are the man who owns the ship outside? The one that... flew into town today."

Gilder smiled and propped the butt end of the cue on the floor, leaning on it slightly. "Yeah, that's me. I'm Gilder, Captain of the Claudia."

Don Puccini smiled back and gave a wheezy laugh. "Fantabulous! I am very impressed! I did not know that such a thing was possible. But with more and more machines appearing every day, so many things are becoming possible."

The two men standing just behind the old man shared an uncertain look. Don Puccini, oblivious to their discomfiture, glanced around at the rowdy crowd filling the areas around the bar and the pool tables. "You seem to have livened things up since your arrival, Mister Gilder." He eyed the Air Pirate speculatively, then said, "I am celebrating the launch of my new luxury liner, the S.S. West Wind. I had invited the Garland Globetrotters to perform during its maiden voyage around the bay, but they were forced to decline due to troubles somewhere past Nefroburg. Perhaps I could persuade you to attend? I would like to hear more about you and your ship--the Claudia, wasn't it?"

Gilder grinned and tossed the cue onto the pool table. "Yeah, that's her name alright. And sure, I'm not one to turn down a free ride."

Don Puccini smiled and motioned to the girl at the handles, who turned the wheelchair and began pushing it towards the front of the arena. "Come with me, Mister Gilder," he said, and the Air Pirate began walking alongside the wheelchair. "Where did you purchase this ship?"

--

Don Puccini had surprised Gilder in several different ways. Through his conversations with the old man aboard his luxury liner he discovered that he pretty much ran the entire town of Neuhafen, but had worked his way up from a small wine-importing business. It made for a stark contrast to the inherited wealth of the nobles in Valua and Nasr, though merchants in the latter country were able to earn good livings.

Second, when Gilder told Don Puccini about how he had arrived in the country through a midair vortex, and that he came from a world where most ships flew, he had allowed himself to be persuaded that it was the truth instead of dismissing the possibility up front. His bodyguard and his assistant Jake had helped persuade him; the owner of the world's first flying ship would hardly go on his maiden flight to visit the Neuhafen Arena. Gilder himself was surprised to find out that flight by men hadn't happened here - that, in fact, the inhabitants of this world were stuck with lives on the ground.

That had rocked Gilder to the very core. When he thought about being stranded on an island somewhere, his first thought was to how he could live without women for an extended period. But being unable to _fly!?_ It was so much an ingrained piece of Arcadian reality that it seemed just... _wrong_ for others to look into the sky and not be able to feel the freedom of sailing through it.

"You ran a blockade to fly through this vortex?" Don Puccini had asked as he was wheeled along the deck of the West Wind with Gilder walking alongside him. The old man frowned slightly. "Who was enforcing this blockade?"

"Valua," Gilder answered. As he saw Puccini's frown deepen, he clarified. "The Valuan Empire. They think they're the rightful rulers of the world--Arcadia, I mean." He went on to tell him about the Imperial Armada and Valua's attempts at conquest and domination in the past, such as the Valua-Nasr War and the founding of Esparanza on Nasr's southernmost coast.

"And this Valua has control of the vortex between Arcadia and this world? This is... troubling to hear." Puccini's bushy eyebrows had lowered as he'd looked down at his steepled fingers and thought. "I am glad I have met you, Mister Gilder," he'd eventually said. "You have brought me very useful information." He'd smiled then, and looked at the crowd of finely dressed people who were clearly enjoying themselves, as well as the several lovely ladies eyeing the darkly handsome Arcadian. "In addition to making this maiden voyage one to remember. You're free to stay as long as you need. But, now I must be going. Ta!"

Gilder had mingled with the upper crust of Neuhafen, and had quickly struck up a conversation with one rich girl with blonde hair wearing a very complimentary silver dress with spaghetti straps and a low neckline. The other women at the party had been disappointed when he walked off the luxury liner with her when it docked again.

Some hours later, it was pitch black when Gilder hastily made his way out of a rich townhouse in Neuhafen's Central District, giving the rich girl one last kiss. "Farewell, my sweet Lucrezia," he said, then turned and hurried away, pulling his duster on the rest of the way and checking that he had both pistols in their holsters.

He was half smiling as he strode down the street, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a contented sigh. Willy flapped over and landed on his shoulder. "Ah, hey there," Gilder said, reaching into a pocket and feeding the bird a cracker from an hors d'oeuvre from the party. "Have fun?" he asked as Willy brought a foot up to hold the cracker, then started gnawing away at it with his beak. "I know I did," he continued, stroking the back of a finger along the feathers of the beast's wing briefly.

The Air Pirate walked along back to the Port District where the Claudia was docked. Gilder noticed several sailors and laborers shooting him, and especially Willy, looks as he went. He didn't mind it, really; he was used to being the center of attention, and even reveled in it. _But why Willy? I know they've got birds around here._ Finally, one sailor stopped him and asked, "Do you know that pretty woman with the parrot?"

"Woman with a parrot?" Gilder frowned and blinked, bemused. "Can't say-- ah, I forget. Where's she live?" He half smiled, resting a hand on his waist. _Heh. 'Pretty woman', eh? This sounds worth checking out..._

The sailor frowned and scratched his head. "Lessee... I know I heard somethin' about that. Um... Yeah, I heard someone was livin' in the old shack back that way," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "The one with a weird lookin' Trotmobile next to it."

"Thanks, pal," Gilder said, slapping the sailor on the arm and heading in that direction. He walked down a narrow pathway next to a restaurant and made his way to the back where an open space next to the railroad tracks opened up. Ahead he could see a small wooden shack, and next to it was a damaged purple Trotmobile with a body that looked like a ship. "This must be the place," he commented to himself, and walked up to the door to knock.

"What are you doing there, y'bilge rat?" a stern female voice called out. Gilder turned and suddenly stopped dead, feeling a small shock tingle through his body. Standing there was a woman wearing a pink blouse, purple skirt with a white arpon over them, a basket of yellow flowers on one arm and a parrot resting on her left shoulder, and she was... _Beautiful,_ ran through Gilder's mind.

The woman blinked as she took in his appearance, then she nodded slowly. "You're... that man with the flying ship, aren't you?"

"Yeah..." He suddenly cleared his throat, resting a hand at his waist and forcing a half smile to his face - his usual approach to women. "Yeah. I'm Gilder, Captain of the Claudia. And who are you?"

She eyed him appraisingly, taking in his red duster and the sight of Willy on his shoulder, then smiled. "My name is Ciboulette. _Captain_ Ciboulette, though you probably can't tell from these clothes."

Gilder grinned at her self-assured nature. _What a woman._ "Well, Captain Ciboulette... Maybe there's somewhere we can chat?"


	11. Chapter 11: The Paths Diverge

Gilder walked into the shack and looked around at the dingy walls and floor with broken boards. _What a dump,_ ran through his mind, as he looked down and saw two barrel bottoms with flowers growing in them. He walked further in and saw some purple clothes folded neatly inside a small crate, topped with a hat with gold braid and white feathers.

"Hey! What're _you_ lookin' at!?" Ciboulette growled from behind him, and Gilder turned to face her, smiling as he put his hands in the air placatingly.

"Nothing, nothing. Sorry," he replied. He leaned back against a wall and folded his arms, watching Ciboulette as she walked in and closed the door behind her. She walked in a short way, then stopped and watched him for a long moment, her face unreadable.

"Tell me, Captain Gilder... How is it that your Claudia can fly?" she asked.

Gilder grinned and brought up a hand, one finger raised. "Wait a minute. First I want to know something."

One thin eyebrow raised above Ciboulette's hazel eyes. "And what would y'be wantin' to know?" she asked, her sailor's dialect becoming thicker.

"Nothing too difficult," he answered, shrugging his shoulders as he folded his arms again. "You said you're a captain, right?" Gilder nodded to her, his eyes passing over the dress she was wearing and the basket of flowers she carried. "How'd you end up like that?"

Ciboulette's lips tightened slightly, annoyed. "It's a long story."

Gilder smiled his most charming smile. "Hey, I've got time," he said, spreading his hands. "My crew isn't expecting me 'til morning."

She sighed and closed her eyes, brought her head up and looked at the ceiling. "Fine, I'll tell you what happened...

"It was a very stormy night as our ship, the S.S. Juniper-Berry, sailed past Seagull Beach," she continued. "The engine room exploded without warning, and there was no doubt we were going down. Some of us escaped on rafts or Trotmobiles, but... We lost sight of one of our newest crewmembers, and the other was seriously injured, so we didn't have much time."

Ciboulette closed her eyes and lowered her head. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel partially responsible." She opened her eyes and looked back at Gilder. "But, of course, there's no way to know exactly what caused it. We _did_ make it here. Our injured crewmember is recovering in that room over there--" she nodded to another door, "while the others are planning to rebuild the ship." She raised the basket of flowers on her arm briefly. "And, I'm selling flowers to earn the money we'd need to do so."

Gilder blinked, confused. "Selling flowers? Why not something else? You can't be making much money doing that..."

Ciboulette half smiled. "You'd be surprised." She shook her head. "I've lived my whole life onboard one ship or another... This is really the only thing I know how to do on land."

"Oh." Gilder frowned; it made sense, but... "So you're stuck on land for now?" Not being able to fly was one thing, but being unable to sail _at all...!_

Ciboulette nodded. "That's right." She hesitated a moment, then continued: "I know this is coming out of nowhere, but could you do me a favor?"

"That depends," he answered cautiously. "What is this favor?"

"Fair enough..." she answered, nodding. "The S.S. Juniper-Berry should still be wrecked on Seagull Beach. I want you to bring me the Sailing License from that ship."

"Sailing License?"

"Without that certificate, we're not allowed on open seas. So... Even if we did rebuild the ship, we wouldn't be allowed on it."

Gilder jerked in surprise, then looked at her with wide eyes, jaw hanging open. "You need a certificate to _sail?!_" _Not even the _Valuans_ have gone _that _far..._

Ciboulette frowned at him. "That's right. ...Where are you from, anyway?"

Gilder folded his arms again, and told her about the vortex and the world of Arcadia beyond it. After he was done, she was staring at him. "No man lyin' would hope to spin such a tale and hope to be believed," she said, shaking her head. "If yer lyin' to me..." Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

He brought up a hand. "I swear it's the truth," he replied. "Before I came through that thing, I'd never even heard of Trotmobiles, let alone seen all the ones out there walking around."

"Hm... Very well." Ciboulette nodded to him. "Arcadia or no Arcadia, yer ship can fly, the railroad to Nefroburg is closed at the Quail Tunnel, and the road to Happy Garland is being blocked by some jerk of a Trotmobile pilot. You're the only one who can get the Sailing License for me."

Gilder smiled and straightened, pointing a thumb at his chest. "Hey, don't worry about a thing, Captain. We Blue Rogues are supposed to help out those in need." He winked. "When they're lovely ladies like yourself, that just makes it all the better."

Ciboulette snorted laughter briefly, but she smiled back. "Good to know," she replied. "I think you can find it in my old room, if the hull's still intact."

"Don't worry about a thing, Captain Ciboulette," Gilder said as he began walking towards the door. "I'll get you that Sailing License back before you know it."

--

Vyse was at the wheel of the Little Jack, grim-faced as he flew through the skies above Valua looking for the arcwhale Captain Drachma had been hunting for so long... _Rhaknam._ He remembered the overwhelming power of the massive beast when he shattered the small boat he and Aika had been sailing to Valua to rescue their friends...

He suddenly turned his head, hearing loud booms in the distance. "...What's that sound?" he asked.

Aika and Fina turned to look that way as well. "It sounds like cannon fire..." Aika answered.

"Boy!" Drachma suddenly yelled. "Dead ahead!"

Vyse looked forward out of the bridge windows again, and felt goosebumps rise over his flesh as he saw the hulking shadow looming through the fog. "Captain!" he exclaimed.

"...It's him!" Drachma yelled, taking a step forward.

The shadow came at them with astonishing speed, then slowly grew purple as it grew closer. It turned suddenly right in front of the Little Jack, making the small ship buck with the winds of its passage. It's large red eye peered into the bridge as it went by. "Aaahhh!" Fina screamed as the ship shook around them.

"It's... it's _huge!"_ Aika exclaimed.

"Hey!" Vyse called. "Look over there!" As Rhaknam swept by, it revealed the presence of two Valuan Gunboats turning to follow the arcwhale, their forward cannons firing after it. "They're going after it!" Vyse continued, then turned his head towards Drachma. "We can't fight them both at the same time! Captain, what should we do?"

"Take out the Valuan ships first," Drachma answered, voice grim. "I don't want them interferin' in the fight with Rhaknam. I need to kill Rhaknam myself." He suddenly raised his voice and roared, "Battlestations! Take out the cruisers in front of us first!"

Vyse looked forward and spun the wheel towards the nearest cruiser, using the Little Jack's superior speed to bob and weave to throw off the Valuan Gunboat's aiming. "Launch torpedo! I'll man the main cannon!" Drachma roared.

Aika rushed to the back and lifted one of the Shock Torpedos with a grunt, then shoved it into the tube. She closed the hatch, then pulled a lever. "Torpedo launched!"

The ship shook as the Gunboat's main gun rattled the hull, the metal sheathing creaking ominously. "Fina! Get ready to do some repairs!" Vyse shouted, and the Silvite girl rushed down the stairs.

Drachma glowered over at the Gunboat as another round of its main cannons shook the hull, but not as heavily as before. "Good job, boy! They only clipped is with that one!" He eyed the streak of the torpedo as it descended from the sky, then let loose the main cannon with a roar. The Gunboat veered sharply as both the torpedo and the shell struck it, and its volley of subcannons missed completely.

A green glow encompassed the Little Jack as the hull stopped creaking. "Alright Fina!" Vyse yelled, then threw the ship into evasive maneuvers as a torpedo launched, limiting the damage when it and a shell struck the ship in turn.

"Take this!" Drachma roared as he let off another round of the main cannon, which struck the Gunboat amidships. The Valuans, instead of veering this time, closed in and let off another round of their main cannons, followed by their subcannons.

Drachma growled, "That's the way they want it... Fight aggressively, boy, and close in on the enemy! Let's give 'em a taste of the Harpoon Cannon!"

Vyse veered the Little Jack towards the Gunboat, ignoring the two torpedos it launched as he closed in behind it. Vyse's lips peeled back from his teeth in a grin as the rear of the ship filled the forward windows. "Harpoon Cannon... Fire!" he shouted.

The massive harpoon launched out of the bow of the ship, exploding through the rear of the Valuan Gunboat and cutting a swath of destruction all the way through it... length-wise. Explosions wracked the steel hull as it quickly started falling down towards the Valuan continent below. As it fell out of view, the sight of Rhaknam just ahead of them was revealed. "Alright!" Vyse shouted. "We've got a straight shot at Rhaknam!"

Drachma leaned forward, peering out the window. "I've waited for this for a long time... Harpoon Cannon... **FIRE!**"

The harpoon, reeled in from the attack on the Gunboat, lanced out again and wedged into the purple arcwhale with a cry from the beast. "Heh... There's no escape for ya now," Drachma growled. "All cannons, fire! Launch torpedos!"

Aika and Fina hurried to the back and loaded torpedos into the tubes, then pulled their levers. "Torpedo launched!" they called in unison.

Vyse punched a control next to the wheel, cutting loose a volley of the 5-inch subcannons as Captain Drachma fired the main G-Type Cannon. Rhaknam squealed as the Little Jack poured cannon fire and torpedos into it, breaking for the open skies east of Valua, but dragging the Little Jack along in its wake.

"Captain! He's dragging us!" Vyse exclaimed. "If Rhaknam dives into Deep Sky, we'll get torn apart!"

"No!" Drachma shouted, pounding his metal arm on top of the control panel. "I'm not lettin' him get away! Keep firin'!"

The Little Jack twisted and bobbed at the end of the chain, unleashing every weapon in its arsenal. Rhaknam twisted to-and-fro, trying to dislodge the harpoon, but it was stuck fast.

Vyse clenched his jaw, wrestling with the wheel to try and hold the ship steady, then blinked and peered closer at the arcwhale. "Huh?" He suddenly pointed and shouted, "Captain! Look! That light!"

Drachma grunted in confusion as he looked over. Down above the eye of Rhaknam was some sort of receptacle with the look of Old World technology... and from within it shone a bright purple light. "What...? Is that a Moon Crystal!?" Drachma exclaimed.

Aika and Fina ran forward to the window and stared down. "It must be..." Aika said. "Which would mean that Rhaknam... is the Purple Gigas?"

Fina gasped, then said, "I can't believe that Rhaknam is the Purple Gigas! The... the name of the Purple Gigas is Plergoth. According to the legends, the citizens of the Purple Civilization implanted the Purple Crystal into a living creature."

"Then... that means that Rhaknam was once a normal arcwhale?" Vyse asked.

Drachma suddenly growled and slammed his metal fist down on the control panel again. "Enough of this!" He fired the main cannon again, the shell exploding against Rhaknam's hide. The arcwhale gave out a howl, paused, then howled again, continuing the call.

"Why is he making that noise?" Aika asked.

"I... I'm not sure," Fina answered, staring down at Rhaknam in concern.

"This isn't good..." Vyse commented, arms straining as he held the wheel level.

"Look at his eye!" Aika shouted, pointing.

Drachma looked down, then his eye blinked as he saw water fill the red eye below. "Wha... what!?" He stared, disbelieving, as the eye slowly started to close, and a tear ran down from it. "He's... cryin'..."

"Look... the Crystal!" Vyse exclaimed, pointing at the receptacle. The Purple Crystal gave off a flash of bright light, then slowly dimmed as a humming whine built for a moment.

Then the Purple Crystal fell from the receptacle.

"Vyse!" Fina gasped. "The Purple Crystal is falling!"

"Hold on!" Vyse suddenly shouted as he retracted the harpoon, throwing the Little Jack into a dive as the Crystal began descending towards Deep Sky. They all shouted as the dive threw them forward, but Vyse kept his eyes on the bright purple light as the ship gained on it, its engine thrumming.

"Captain, take the wheel! Aika, come on!" Vyse shouted as he braced a boot onto the control panel, then jumped up the sharp incline of the bridge to the stairs. He threw himself down them and slid along the floor to the doors leading out to the deck. Behind him, Aika landed on the floor and also started sliding down as Vyse threw the doors open and braced his feet, sliding over to the side of the ship and grabbing it.

As Aika grabbed the side just behind him, he shouted, "Aika, when the Crystal gets within range, grab it! I'll hold onto you!" He glanced briefly up at the bridge window to see Drachma and Fina staring down at them.

"Alright!" Aika shouted, face steeled as she squinted her eyes against the rushing wind of their dive.

Slowly, the Little Jack overtook the Purple Crystal until it was falling alongside the ship. Aika let out a shout as she hopped up onto the railing, then leaped outward at the Moon Crystal, her gloved hand outstretched. "Got it!" she shouted as her hand closed around it, then looked down to see nothing between her and the dark roiling clouds of Deep Sky below. "Vyse!" she screamed just before a hand closed around the back of her blue belt.

Vyse gritted his teeth as he pulled with all his strength, yanking Aika back onto the deck of the Little Jack just as it began pulling out of its dive, sending the two of them tumbling across the wooden planks in a heap. The ship groaned below them at the strain it was being put through, then eased as it zoomed back up into the sky.

Drachma and Fina ran out onto the deck as soon as the ship was level, and Fina breathed a sigh of relief and smiled as Vyse and Aika slowly picked themselves up, Aika rubbing her stomach and Vyse rubbing his head. "Ow... You really pulled hard there, Vyse," Aika said, mock-concerned, then beamed at him and leaped over, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Ow!" Vyse exclaimed, and she pulled back, eyes wide.

"Are you alright?!" Aika asked.

Vyse was frowning, eyes closed as he rubbed his head. "My head... You really knocked me back there, Aika. Maybe you shouldn't eat so much..."

Aika's eyes went wide and her mouth opened in surprise, then she blushed as her eyes narrowed dangerously. "What?! Are you saying I'm _fat?!_"

"Huh?" Vyse opened his eyes and brought his hands up in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean that at all! Wait a minute..."

"Hmph!" Aika folded her arms and turned away from him, still blushing.

Fina brought a hand to her mouth, giggling quietly, then stopped as she looked down and saw the Purple Crystal lying on the deck near her feet. She stepped forward and bent over, picking it up and gazing into its depths.

Vyse slowly stood, looking at Aika's back with a bemused expression, then looked at Fina holding the Moon Crystal and smiled, bring a fist up and pumping his elbow back. "Alright! That's three down!" He looked over at Drachma, and saw the Captain staring out over the sky. Vyse turned and looked outward, his expression serious.

In the distance, the form of Rhaknam was visible as it twisted in the air, falling from the sky as the sun finally rose. Drachma's expression was unreadable as his longtime quarry slowly sank beneath the clouds of Deep Sky...

There was a long moment of silence, then Drachma spoke. "I've spent my life... searching for Rhaknam to avenge my crew... and my son..." He brought his metal fist up and clenched it. "And I've finally done it." He blinked, then reached down into a pouch at his belt and pulled out the box he'd shown Vyse the night before.

_His son Jack's box,_ Vyse thought as the Captain walked slowly over to the side of the Little Jack, staring at the box. When he reached the side, he opened it, revealing the multicolored feathers within. Drachma slowly extended his arm out over the side of the ship, tilting the box slightly so that the breeze caught the feathers and swirled them away up into the skies...

After they were gone, Drachma heaved a heavy sigh and let his arm drop to his side. "Chasin' Rhaknam was my reason for livin'. And now I've got to start over..." He closed his eyes and shook his head, as if trying to drive deep-seated memories from his head. "When you're as old as me... It's not easy to change your ways."

Vyse, Aika and Fina remained silent behind him, then Vyse smiled and brought up a fist, holding it out in front of him. "We're still with you, Captain!"

Fina bowed at her waist to Drachma. "Captain, I would be honored if you would continue travelling with us."

Aika winked and grinned, laughing a bit before saying, "Yeah, Cap'n, you can't get rid of us that easy!"

Drachma turned and looked at them for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "I'll go with you kids." He brought his metal fist up and looked at it a long moment, before looking back up at the three of them. "With Rhaknam gone, Valua's the biggest danger in the skies anyway. Now, get back to the bridge! We've got sailin' to do!"

"Aye aye!" the three of them shouted, then hurried back to the bridge.

"So where should we go next?" Vyse asked from the wheel as Drachma walked onto the bridge.

"The Little Jack took a beatin' with those acrobatics you threw her through, boy," Drachma said. "Nasrad, the capital of Nasr, should be to the south. I say we head there and get some repairs done."

"And we should warn them about the attack Valua's planning," Aika chimed in. The soldier back at the Maw of Tartas had been sure enough about that, and it had been the main reason none of the Admirals had been free to pursue Rhaknam personally... though rumors were growing about the point of light Valua's Mid Ocean Fleet was gathered around.

"Right," Vyse answered, nodding. "Let's go! To Nasrad!" He spun the wheel, turning the Little Jack towards the south.

--

Vanilla sighed as his Earl Grey II walked past the last the wheat fields, leaving two plumes of smoke where two bandits in hopping Thresher Trotmobiles had attacked him. "Finally made it," he said to himself as he parked at Skylark Farms' main gate and began descending from the cockpit.

As soon as he turned away from his vehicle, a young barefoot boy in white shirt and blue shorts ran up to him. "Hey Mister, do you travel a lot?" he asked. "Ever been to Vision Ranch?"

"Yeah, I've been there," Vanilla answered.

"Really? I have a friend who lives there," the boy said. He held out a letter. "Could you maybe give him this next time you go?" Vanilla took the envelope and looked at the return address, which said the boy's name was Pete. "Promise, okay?" Pete said, then ran off.

_I'll be heading back there anyway,_ Vanilla thought to himself as he tucked Pete's letter into a pocket, and made his way over to a nearby farmer wearing a straw hat and overalls. The farmer blinked when he saw the stranger walk up to him. "Did you come from Happy Garland?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's right," Vanilla replied. _The people at this farm sure have a lot of questions._

"Some jerk in a Trotmobile is blocking the way to Neuhafen," the farmer replied, looking sour.

" I see..." Vanilla frowned. _Maybe I should look into it. I _am_ a member of the Civilian Army now. First things first..._ "I'm here to stock up some wheat for the Civilian Army," he said.

He was taken aback when he discovered that it was 77 UR per unit of wheat, but shelled out the money and loaded the large cloth sacks onto his Trotmobile's wide flatbed. _I hope I'm going to get compensated for this,_ he thought as he climbed back into the cockpit and headed west on the road to Neuhafen.

As he drew close to the outer gate of Neuhafen, he caught sight of a large black and red Trotmobile that grew more familiar the closer he drew. When he spotted the spider leg frame, Vanilla sighed to himself. "Oh great," he muttered. "It's that Dudley guy."

Dudley seemed just as surprised to see him. "Hey, you're the guy I fought at Fort Raven!" he exclaimed. "This is good timing," he continued, tossing a crumpled envelope hard at the Earl Grey II's cockpit, hitting the seat next to Vanilla with it. "Could you take this to a girl named Aloe, at that farm? Bring back her response, too. I'll be waiting here, okay?" he asked, sounding earnest. He subsequently exploded that tone by threatening, "And don't you dare read it!"

_Well, if it'll get him to stop blocking the road to Neuhafen,_ Vanilla thought as he turned his Trot back to Skylark Farms. The trip back didn't take long, and a few questions pointed him to the larger of the two houses where Aloe lived. When he found her, he found that she was a blonde girl of around his own age who wore a green shirt, long pink skirt and an apron over them. Vanilla wordlessly handed over the crumpled envelope from Dudley.

"What's this...?" she asked, then tore it open and pulled out the piece of paper, smoothing it out. She quickly read through it, then blinked as she let the hand holding it drop to her side. "Oh!" she exclaimed, then continued in a neutral tone: "...Please give this to Dudley." Aloe quickly wrote on a piece of paper, folded it and handed it to him.

A short time later, Vanilla was again facing Dudley's Trotmobile in front of Neuhafen's outer gate. He handed Aloe's response over, and the brute eagerly ripped it out of his hand and tore it open. His grin of elation faded as he read through it. "Ohhhhh no!" Dudley shouted. He stabbed a finger out at Vanilla, shouting, "Dammit! This is all your fault, you wuss! Urgh... You ruin everything!"

"What are you talking about?" Vanilla exclaimed. "Don't blame me for your own screw up!"

Dudley was still incandescent with anger, and shouted through Vanilla's reprimand. "I don't need your sympathy! Shut up and fight, you little girly-man!" He suddenly cut loose with a couple of cannon shots, and Vanilla quickly dodged his Trotmobile out of the way.

"Here we go again," he muttered as he brought his new arm frames to the ready. He'd bought the best ones he could find in Happy Garland before heading to Vision Ranch to join the Civilian Army, and the Earl Grey II was armed with a buzzsaw arm and sniper arm. Vanilla moved in slash at Dudley's Trot with the buzzsaw, then blinked in surprise as a gout of flame suddenly poured forth from its other arm.

_He's got a flamethrower! _Vanilla quickly thrusted backwards away from the fire, and raised his sniper arm, firing off a quick shot. He decided to play it safe and kept his distance from Dudley, firing repeatedly into him from a far distance with the sniper arm and staying well away from the numerous bursts of flame and cannon shells the distraught Trot pilot was flinging around. At the same time, he tried to keep the black and red Trotmobile from getting too close to the wheat fields - with the way he was spewing fire all around, he'd burn the fields in a heartbeat.

Eventually, the slow-firing sniper arm wore down Dudley's Trotmobile enough that it spewed smoke. "No fair," Dudley yelled, waving a fist. "My arm part broke." He slowly backed his Trotmobile away while it could still move, shouting, "Just you wait! I'll remember this!" His black and red Trotmobile limped away from the outer gate, leaving it free to traffic.

Vanilla smiled as he looked at the open gate, missing the sight of a red ship with black sails flying past overhead. Then he stretched, sighing at his relieved muscles as he said, "Well, back to Vision Ranch with the wheat." He turned the Earl Grey II around and started back towards Happy Garland.

--

Ramirez ascended the stairs from the lobby, where people wandering in the crowd watched him go in either awe or uneasiness. His green eyes narrowed in dark amusement. He'd achieved B Rank that morning, and he was already gaining a reputation of ruthlessness to rival Elder's. He took in the jet black-and-red shape of Corvus with a fondness he'd previously bestowed only on either his sword or Lord Galcian, and all three for much the same reasons. _Powerful and deadly... each suited to their roles._

The maintenance man in the battler's lounge nodded to him as he walked by. "Hey, good fightin' out there!" he called, and Ramirez nodded to him. Deeper into lobby, the three gladiators he'd been able to face so far eyed him as he climbed into Corvus' cockpit; Sudou with his usual inscrutability, Sampson with a frown now that he'd gotten a better sense of the Silvite, and Genius clucking over the damage his Trotmobile, the Clever Fool, had taken in their previous match. _I do not care if they like me, as long as they fear me._

He piloted his Trotmobile back to the Lobster Inn, and looked consideringly at the Real Estate office as he went by. _Perhaps it's about time I look into getting an apartment here, instead of staying at that inn all the time._ He'd have more of the privacy he craved from time to time, for one, and... _And perhaps I'll stop wondering about Connie if I don't see the stage every day,_ he thought, mouth twisting in annoyance.

Ramirez parked in the lot next to the Lobster Inn and headed inside, loosening the tightness of his bow tie around his throat. He had nodded to Dustin as started towards the stairs when a female voice said behind him, "You're looking well, Ramirez. That suit is quite flattering."

The Silvite blinked, quite humanly astonished for a moment, before he turned around and saw the familiar dark red-haired woman sitting at one of the tables, legs crossed. She had also changed her outfit, and wore a long-sleeved white blouse with a red ribbon around her neck, a calf-length red skirt and black high-heeled shoes. "Belleza..." he said, staring at her.

Belleza's smile widened as she uncrossed her legs and stood from the chair, then folded her arms. "You've been busy, haven't you?" she commented as she walked over to him. "Befriending the Garland Globetrotters, battling in the Trotmobile arenas..." Her smile faded slightly as she stood next to him and lowered her voice: "...And failing to send reports of your progress back to Meme Village."

Ramirez eyed the older Admiral, expression neutral. Inside, he felt a twinge of guilt. _Lord Galcian set me a task, and I've gotten myself distracted. _He suddenly eyed Belleza in a new, suspicious, way. _Has he sent her to eliminate me?_ As soon as the thought occurred to him, he dismissed it. _My lord knows that an agent such as Belleza would stand no chance against me in a fight._

"Why are you here?" he asked finally.

Belleza's smile reached her eyes again as she watched him consideringly. "It's simple enough, Ramirez. I'm here to discover what you have learned so far, and see how best to use the knowledge to benefit Valua." Her gaze suddenly focused on him with disconcerting focus. "I'm in overall command of this operation now, Ramirez, by order of Lord Admiral Galcian himself. Now... tell me what you've learned..."


End file.
